


Lavender Sleep

by QueenofDisaster



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Chastity Tea, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Masterbation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Sexual Fantasy, Slow Burn, Strangers to roommates to lovers, Touch-Starved, puberty round 2, thats right you heard me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2019-11-04 07:56:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17894519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofDisaster/pseuds/QueenofDisaster
Summary: His uncle is dead.Laurent should be skipping down the street, swinging from lampposts and dancing with strangers. But he’s not. Instead he has to wait thirty days before he finally gets what’s rightfully his.Until then he’s homeless and quickly running out of resources.Enter Damianos - an overly large and concerningly friendly individual who only wishes to help Laurent by letting him stay practically for free in his own home.Laurent cannot fathom why, but he’s run out of options.The only thing that really concerns him is the stirring, sometimes nauseating feeling he starts to get when Damianos accidentally drops his specially made tea down the kitchen sink.Is he sick? And why does this unfamiliar string pull every time Damianos flashes him that broad dimpled smile?





	1. Infuse

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first CP doc I’ve ever written. The only reason I wrote it was because I wanted to read this story and no one else wanted to read my mind and write it for me so sigh I had to do it myself. Anyway, I hope to continue this story. I’m a bit of a sucker for the slow burn.

His uncle was dead.  
Laurent churned the words over in his mind, picking it apart, trying to find the lie buried within, the angle, the many possible ways this information could be used to make him vulnerable. Yet, the more scenarios and questions his fervent mind spat out, the facts still remained the same. 

His uncle was dead. Laurent was free. Utterly, bitterly alone in the world, but free. 

“Mr De Vere? Are you listening?” Guion, his uncle’s now former legal representation and the current executor of his estate. Guion had an annoying habit of speaking while Laurent was trying to think. 

“Yes, I heard.” Laurent crossed and uncrossed his legs, smoothing out the seam along his navy slacks. “Four million and my family’s estate. I understand that on my eighteenth birthday I was originally meant to receive both the property and the five million my parents left behind. Tell me, Guion, what exactly does a filthy old man like my Uncle spend a cool million dollars on in under three years?” 

Guion’s lips thinned at his contentious tone and the underlying suggestion behind Laurent’s words. He never liked Laurent. Even as a young teenager, Laurent had an asp’s tongue and the intelligence to run circles around Guion and send his gutless son Aimeric running to his father’s arms in a fit of angry tears. 

“Your Uncle held your family’s money as a way to protect you from yourself. I’ve known you a very long time, Laurent. You were in no shape to inherit such a vast fortune and responsibility at just eighteen years old. Your uncle did you a service contesting your inheritance.” Guion leaned back against his pompous oak desk and linked his ageing hands. Laurent held back the snarl that twitched at his lips. 

“Tell me, Guion. Should I be grateful to a man who took my parent’s safety net that was meant to guide me to start a new life once they were no longer there to guide me themselves?” Laurent’s tone was chilled to the core. His voice remaining flat as his ice blue eyes flamed with rage.  
“Should I thank the man who defied his own brother’s wishes to tear his last living will to shreds and shame his son in front of an entire courtroom of people in order to steal his money right from his cold dead hands?” 

“Laurent-“

“Mr De Vere to you. You may have been around me for a very long time, Guion, but don’t be foolish enough to think you know me.” His voice cut through Guion whose face twisted into a scowl, his professional mask cracking along the edges.  
“We both know the kind of man my uncle was. We both know that if he had lived to a hundred years old he would have fought with every dying brain cell to keep what was rightfully mine from me. But he didn’t.“ Laurent let a hint of amusement curl the edge of his tone, delighting in how Guion tensed all over with indignant frustration. 

How his uncle inspired such loyalty, Laurent would never understand. Threats, most likely. Blackmail was a particular favourite of his uncle’s also.

“Thirty days and the estate will be transferred over to you.” Guion said. 

“Fantastic.” Laurent smoothly got to his feet, slipping into his coat and untucking his hair from the collar. “Consider this your thirty days notice. Once the estate is mine, your services will no longer be needed. Frankly, you should be grateful I’m giving you notice at all. It will give you time to scape the barrel for another job.” Guion’s mouth dropped open in shock and as he sputtered, Laurent breezed past him without another word.

He was free. 

 

Laurent should be exhilarated. In theory he should be dancing down the footpath, swinging from lamp posts and dancing with strangers on the street. But he held himself back. After all, it was not yet truly over. Thirty days still remained until he could finally step back into the house he grew up in after three years of being barred from the property. 

For Laurent, his uncle would not truly be gone until he held those keys in his hands. 

Stepping into a cafe he frequented, Laurent waved down the waitress. She was the same server he’d had every time he’d come in store. Which was about three times a week for the past year. He thought he heard one of the cooks call her Lykaios, but even though they’d seen each other on a weekly basis for a year, they had yet to properly introduce themselves. Which was fine with Laurent. After all, he wasn’t looking for friends when he stepped into Princeling cafe, just a quiet space to study for his Political Science exams and slowly pick at the assortment of pastries Lykaios would silently place on his table beside his usual cup of hot water. 

As a young man of routine, Laurent enjoyed the fact the even when his whole life had been spun in a circle in the past three days, walking into Princeling cafe was like coming home. His shoulders unwound and dropped from around his ears, a small sigh leaving him and he dropped into his usual spot in the corner by the window. 

“Morning.” Lykaios chirped, placing the mug of steaming water on the table in front of him with a clink of ceramic. Laurent smiled politely at her, pulling from his bag a cardboard box filled with tea leaves smelling of lavender and citrus. The smell alone made him relax further into his seat. 

“You and your fruity little teas.” A rolling Veretian voice quipped from above. Knowing exactly who it was, Laurent didn’t bother to look up to see Lazar’s smirking face, instead continuing to stir his tea.  
“Listen, Laurent.” Lazar’s tone changed as he dropped into the opposite seat.  
“I just heard about your uncle. I’m sorry.” Laurent almost laughed. 

“Don’t be, honestly.” Laurent shrugged. 

“Okay...good because truly I found your uncle quite unsettling to be around.” This time Laurent did laugh. Trust Lazar to bypass all tact and sensitivity and speak the truth. It was quite refreshing. Laurent had gotten too used to lies and doublespeak, he’d almost forgotten what sincerity sounded like. 

Lazar always seemed to enjoy when his often lame attempts at humour actually got him a reaction. 

“So you’re an overnight millionaire. How does it feel?” Lazar’s eyes brightened and he slapped the table in excitement, rattling Laurent’s cup and saucer. Laurent rolled his eyes, sipping his tea instead of replying immediately. 

“Not yet. Thirty days. Call it a probationary period. It takes time to transfer a dead man’s stolen wealth over to his next of kin.” Laurent dead panned. Lazar contemplated this for a while.

“So...the house. You can’t go there for a month? But, um, aren’t you? Didn’t you say that your lease is-?” Lazar didn’t usually fumble over his words. His cockiness and lecherous manner usually lent itself to a confident tone when he spoke. 

“Over as of today. Yes, technically I am homeless, Lazar. Unfortunately I didn’t know until today that I would have to wait to move back into the house. Otherwise I obviously would have made other arrangements.” Lazar took a big gulp of his tea, ignoring his burning taste buds. 

“Shit, man. I’d say you could come stay with me but you know I’ve got Pallas’ brother sleeping on my couch.” Laurent held up his hand to stop Lazar from continuing. 

“Lazar, I understand. I can just stay at a hotel for a while at least until I run out of money.” Laurent chuffed, running his hand through his hair. “Pretty ironic that I’m a millionaire yet I have no place to live and barely enough money to pay for this semester.” 

“Listen...I know this guy, good friend of Pallas’, they went to high school together. He just broke up with his girlfriend and his best friend Nikandros is coming home from Patras in two months to come live with him. I could ask him if he could let you stay until you get your shit sorted out?” Laurent sipped his tea in silent contemplation. What choice did he have really? He could probably find a dingy motel to stay in but even if it was dirt cheap he couldn’t afford to stay there a whole month. 

Still, living with a total stranger was not exactly an ideal situation for someone like Laurent. He was overly clean, regimented and stubborn to a fault. In summary, he was a nightmare roommate for any normal person. Laurent thought about the boxes of his possessions currently residing in the backseat of his car.

“What’s his name?” Laurent asked. 

“Damianos. But I think everyone calls him Damen.” Lazar seemed overly excited that Laurent was even willing to entertain the idea. 

Damianos. Not a particularly common name, even in Akeilos. Although there was a long line of Laurents in the De Vere family, after moving to Ios he’d had to get used to the harsh Akeilon accents stumbling over the soft flourish of his name. 

“Alright, give him my number I guess.” Laurent sighed and tried not to show his amusement at Lazar’s bright relieved smile. It would only encourage him.

 

Laurent’s phone buzzed in his coat pocket not even ten minutes after Lazar had left the cafe with an exaggerated wink at Lykaios. It was so unexpected Laurent twitched in his seat, immediately smothering his surprise, staring down the patrons who’d looked over at him in curiosity until they turned away. 

From Unknown Number:  
Hey! This is Damen! Lazar gave me ur number he didn’t tell me much about ur situation but I’ve got a spare room for the next two months if ur interested? 

From Laurent:  
I am interested. I don’t have much of a choice really. But I would only need the room for a month. 

From Damianos:  
Excellent! No problem at all a month is fine! 

From Laurent:  
You know you overuse exclamation points. 

From Damianos:  
:D I have been told  
Hey did you want to meet up for coffee sometime to maybe get to know each other a bit before you decide what you want to do? 

From Laurent:  
Is this my opportunity to figure out if you’re a serial murderer who ensnares his victims by offering them board?

From Damianos:  
Precisely ;) 

 

Laurent’s thumbs hovered over his phone. He didn’t think anyone had ever sent him a winky face emoji before. He didn’t quite know what it meant. Damianos seemed friendly enough. But Laurent was never good at reading people through texts. He needed to see a person to pick them apart. He needed to see their mannerisms, their tells when they lied straight to his face. 

From Laurent:  
Heard of Princeling Cafe on Hasting Road? 

From Damianos:  
I think so? Either way I’ll find it haha hows tomorrow 10? 

From Laurent:  
Alright. 

From Damianos:  
! 

A flicker of a smile pushed at the edges of his mouth and Laurent rolled his eyes at himself. 

 

Laurent had been at Princeling cafe for an hour before they’d organised to meet. He was slightly nervous, he would only admit to himself. Meeting strangers he was okay with, nobody liked him when they first met him anyway, he’d long ago accepted that fact. But he had a lot riding on this particular stranger not hating him as soon as he opened his mouth. If this Damianos didn’t like him that was it. He would truly be homeless. He’d checked in to a crummy motel the night before and barely slept a wink on the stiff mattress and paper-rough sheets. He longed for his bed. His real bed, the one he’d slept in all through high school. The one locked away behind an iron gate for twenty nine more days. 

The only thing that had lulled him to sleep that night was the memory of his perfectly grooved mattress and silky soft sheets. 

“Laurent?” An Akelion accented voice pulled him out of his pity spiral. Laurent looked up at Damianos and blinked slowly a few times.  
Damianos was frankly enormous. He towered over Laurent, easily pushing six foot five and practically bursting out of his sweater. Laurent’s gaze trailed over Damianos appraising and almost clinical. He seemed the poster boy for Akeilos: tall, broad, skin like a hazelnut, inky black curls and a smile that lit up his entire face. 

“Yes.” Laurent said primly. Damianos took this as an invitation to sit down across from him. Damianos’ dimpled smile did not waver even as he struggled to slide gracefully into the small chair. His knees bumped the underside of the table and Laurent jumped forward to steady his tea cup before it rattled off the table. Damianos winced. 

“Sorry! Sorry, gosh would you believe that happens quite a lot?” Damianos’ face must hurt if he walked around smiling that wide all the time. 

“I would believe that, yes.” Laurent said and Damianos laughed. It was a hearty, deep sound that made Laurent relax a little more in his seat. 

As if a moth to a flame, Lykaios appeared beside their table, turning up her smile about a hundred watts when Damianos turned his attention towards her. Lykaios actually seemed to swoon a little under Damianos’ courteous manner as she took his coffee order. Tall black, how mundane, Laurent thought. He couldn’t tamp down the little bubble of irritation as Lykaios and Damianos shot each other flirtatious glances right in front of him. They had business to do, Laurent had a lot hanging on this situation working out. He would feel better if they could hash out the details as soon as possible so Laurent could avoid living out of his car. 

Laurent felt his mouth dip into his usual scowl and he delighted in the falter in Damianos’ smile as he turned his attention back to Laurent. 

“Shit, sorry. Right, hello, that was very rude I haven’t even properly introduced myself. I’m Damianos. You can call me Damen.” Damianos offered his hand across the table. Laurent shook it, brow furrowing at how slight and fragile his hand felt in Damianos’. His palm was warm but dry, the developed calluses on his fingers brushed the delicate skin of Laurent’s wrist briefly. 

“Laurent De Vere.” Laurent said and Damianos sat back in his seat with a contemplative expression. 

“De Vere? You’re Veretian, yes?” Damianos asked and Laurent nodded, curious as to his strange reaction to his name. Damianos’ eyes sparkled and his bright teeth flashed and he seemed to buzz in his seat.  
“De Vere! Like Auguste De Vere?” 

Laurent blanched. He could feel the absence of blood in his face tingling across his cheeks. 

“How do you know that name? Did you know my uncle? What did he tell you?” Laurent snapped and Damianos’ brows drew together and he held up his hands. 

“Woah, Laurent, no. I knew Auguste a long time ago. We went to different high schools but we played for the same soccer club.” Laurent’s hackles slowly lowered. He remembered Auguste coming home late Wednesday afternoons, kicking off his cleats in the doorway, ruffling Laurent’s hair as he passed him while he sat at the dining table doing his homework. Auguste was popular during his high school years. Before their parents died Laurent would come home from school to find a horde of teenage boys raiding the fridge, laughing jovially. Laurent used to rush past them before they even noticed he was there and hid in his room until they left. 

He didn’t remember ever seeing such a hulking figure as Damianos in his house. 

“Our mother used to yell at him for tracking muddy cleat marks across the hardwood.” Laurent said after a pregnant silence. Damianos smiled in relief. 

“My mother had the same problem. But it was cleat marks in her car. One time she wouldn’t unlock the doors until I’d taken them off and wrapped them in a plastic bag.” Laurent smirked. “It was raining by the way.” Damianos added on and Laurent laughed, Damianos quickly joining him. 

“So-“ Damianos crosses his large arms across his chest. “Did Auguste make it into the professional league? He always talked shit about being better than the rest of us.” Laurent’s fingers tightened around his cup, expression shuttering. All the humour left Damianos’ manner, replaced with concern as Laurent began to tremble. 

“Shit, Laurent, are you alright? Can I get you anything?” Damianos looked around in a panic, waving Lykaios down before Laurent could protest. 

“Could we get some water please-“ 

“Just another usual refill, thank you.” Laurent interrupted, handing over his cup for Lykaios to fill with hot water. Laurent fumbled with his bag. His hand shook as he spooned his tea leaves into the steaming mug, stirring minimally before taking a sip, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent.

Damianos stayed silent, which Laurent was grateful for. Laurent was halfway through the drink when he broke the silence.  
“It’s been eight years.” Their parents died when Auguste was sixteen, Laurent just thirteen. Within six months Laurent lost his brother too. 

“What happened?” Damianos asked softly. Laurent took a large gulp of tea. 

“Car accident. He was t-barred by another car, drunk driver. Auguste shouldn’t have been driving, he was only sixteen without a full license. But he’d been driving to pick up his friend from a party who were drunk.” Laurent shook his head.  
“I’m sorry you found out so long after it happened.” 

“We lost touch quite easily after I stopped playing for the club. That year I moved from Delpha to Ios and finished school here. I’m so sorry.” Damianos looked like he wanted to bridge the space between them and clasp his hand across the small table. But he held himself back when Laurent clutched the cup tighter in both hands. 

“It’s been a long time.” Laurent brushed off the condolence. He’d heard it too many times in his short life. After a while it lost its meaning. Even the sincerity in Damianos’ voice didn’t change that fact, although it was close.  
“I need a place to stay for twenty nine days. I have some money to help with rent and I can take care of my own groceries.” 

Damianos went along with the sudden change of topic, thankfully.  
“I actually own the place, it’s a townhouse by the way. Used to be my mother’s. So don’t worry about rent and utilities will be low since it’s just the two of us.”  
It sounded too good to be true. Damianos had to have some other motive. Why would he allow a stranger into his home? 

“Why are you doing this?” Laurent asked. Damianos’ shrug was infuriatingly unclear, and so was the small close-lipped smile on his face. When it was clear Laurent would not accept that as an answer Damianos gave a small good natured laugh. 

“Okay. I don’t have an answer really. I trust Lazar - well actually not really-“ Laurent had a flicker of a smile at that. “But I trust him enough to know he wouldn’t let me bring a murderer or criminal into my home. I also just want to help, I guess. I’d hope that if I was in a similar situation there’d be someone around to help me.” 

“I can accept that.” Laurent said. 

“Perfect, when can you move in?” 

Twenty nine days.


	2. Wilting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day as roommates doesn’t go quite so smoothly until it does. Also a figure from Laurent’s past reappears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all thanks to everyone who commented on the first chapter! And also to those who read and gave kudos :) hope you enjoy the chapter!

Damianos insisted on helping Laurent unload his meagre belongings from his car, no matter Laurent’s protests. Damianos’ home was an old brick townhouse with a small courtyard out the front, shaded by what looked like apple trees lining the low fence. 

It was charming, classically designed but obviously loved and taken care of. Damianos nudged open the iron gate with his hip, letting Laurent pass through with a sunny smile. 

“What do you think?” Damianos asked, shifting the box of books in his arms. He would only let Laurent carry his clothes which were piled into black garbage bags. 

“I’m haven’t seen inside yet.” Laurent said, breezing past Damianos and into the house. Inside was lovingly decorated in a mix of inner city loft and Hampton style that somehow worked. Laurent loved it. It had life, and a warmth that he couldn’t describe. There was a fireplace, the mantle covered in framed photos of Damianos’ friends and family. Laurent couldn’t help but notice that a few of the frames were empty. Lazar had mentioned an ex-girlfriend hadn’t he? 

“It’s...comely.” Laurent said in response to Damianos’ expectant gaze. 

“Brilliant. I’ll show you your room.” Damianos led him up to the second storey and into the first bedroom at the top of the stairs. Inside was sparsely decorated but fully furnished with a queen size bed in the centre. Laurent nearly cried when he saw it. In his old apartment he’d been stuck with a king single in a cramped room off the kitchen that was also the living area. At five-ten, Laurent’s toes would stick out over the edge unless the crown of his head was pressed against the headboard. 

“It’s nothing fancy. It used to be a storage room but I had to quickly make it a bedroom once my best friend Nik decided to move in.” Damianos dropped the box down on top of the large dresser and dusted off his hands. Laurent nodded, beginning to pull out his clothes and fold them on the end of the bed. 

“Not much for talking, are you?” Damianos asked, hands on his hips. Laurent rolled his eyes. Ever-loving Christ, how many times had he heard that in his life? 

“No.” Laurent said coolly and he jumped when Damianos gave a boisterous laugh. 

“Okay, no worries, I’ve been told I can talk enough for three people. Just let me know if it bothers you at all.” Laurent gazed at Damianos contemplatively. Who was this guy? 

“Is there anything else you need brought up from your car?” Damianos asked, shifting from foot to foot. Laurent shook his head, pulling at the sleeves of his navy jumper. 

“I’ll let you get settled then. Uh, would you like a coffee? Or tea?” Laurent barely opened his mouth to answer before Damianos interrupted him.   
“Oh! Cup of hot water? You bring your own tea around with you.” Laurent nodded and Damianos seemed proud of himself that he’d gotten it right and he spun on his heels. Damianos’ footfalls were thunderous going down the stairs. 

Laurent perched himself on the edge of the bed and sighed. He could do this. He just had to keep Damianos from turning on him and kicking him out. So far, the only way Laurent could see Damianos turning him out on the street is if he tried to burn down the place. He seemed the most patient man he’d ever met. But Laurent was known for pushing people past their point of tolerance. 

He quietly treaded down the stairs, cringing at the creak in the odd wooden panel and stopped at the landing near the bottom. From the stairs he could see through the main living area into the kitchen. Damianos had his back to Laurent, stirring his coffee. He looked ridiculous holding a dainty teaspoon between his thumb and forefinger. 

Damianos had taken off his sweater to leave a tight plain grey t-shirt underneath that showed every dip of the muscles in his upper back. It was frankly obscene and Laurent wondered if Damianos grew up eating entire cows for dinner. 

“Hey your tea’s...well your water is ready.” Damianos called out without turning and Laurent flushed at being caught standing and staring. He didn’t want him to get any ideas. Not saying a word to defend himself Laurent carried his little box of tea into the kitchen and slid onto one of the bench stools. Damianos finally turned with a smile and slid his mug across the counter to him. 

“So is that like the only tea you like? Or do you drink others?” Laurent nearly rolled his eyes again at Damianos’ lame attempt at conversation. 

“It’s partly medicinal.” 

“Partly?” Damianos asked, confused. 

“I use it to relax. The taste doesn’t really do anything for me anymore. I’ve been drinking it since I was young.” Laurent stirred his tea and kicked himself in the shin internally. Why hadn’t he just said ‘yes, this is the only tea I like’ and have been done with it? 

“Oh, so doesn’t have like sedatives or anything in it, does it?” 

“No...at least not a potent amount if there is.” Damianos seemed like he wanted to pry further and Laurent gave him a pointed look to keep him quiet. 

“Okay...I can put it with the other coffee stuff if you like.” Damianos picked up the box before Laurent could utter a word and was about to put it one of the kitchen cupboards when his fingers fumbled. Laurent drew in a quick breath as the box slipped from his grasp and dropped straight into the sink, lid popping open and tea leaves spewing out onto what looked like the soaking dishes from Damianos’ breakfast that morning. 

The silence that followed was deadly. Damianos looked as if he’d been backhanded across the face, cheeks flushed and eyes wide, trained on Laurent. 

The first thing Laurent felt was panic. Immediate panic. What was he going to do now? He needed that tea. He couldn’t go a day without at least one steaming cup. The shop he got his supply from was back in Delpha and it would cost a fortune for Laurent to have more shipped to him. The man who owned the shop knew Laurent by name, he knew his order by heart. It wasn’t something he could pick up from a local supermarket, his order was specially made. How was he going to survive the stress of the next month without it? 

“Laurent, I’m so fucking sorry! I didn’t mean to - I was just trying - let me pay for it -“ Damianos began to babble, spewing apologies. 

“Stop.” Laurent finally said when Damianos grew incoherent. Damianos’ jaw clicked shut, waiting. Laurent wanted to yell at him, more than anything. He wanted to tear Damianos down to shreds with his sharp words but he couldn’t. He couldn’t ruin this. He had to pretend like it was no big deal. Because to Damianos it was just posh tea. But for Laurent, it had brought him back from the brink of panic attacks since he was a boy. It got him through his parents funeral, and his brother’s wake. It lulled him to sleep on nights where his mind ran in circles and old memories unburied themselves. 

“Don’t...- forget about it.” Laurent said finally. 

“Let me buy you more to replace it. Please.” Damianos asked and Laurent shook his head. 

“I don’t need your money.” 

“Let me take you to lunch. Laurent, let me do something.” Damianos looked genuinely upset and Laurent sighed. 

“If I let you buy me lunch...will you just forget about this.” 

“Yes! Let me make it up to you. I do not want this to be how we start out being roommates.” Damianos said and Laurent did somewhat agree with that. 

 

Lunch started as an uncomfortable affair. Damianos spent the first ten minutes sitting down in the cafe looking at Laurent like a kicked puppy until Laurent told him to stop. 

“I know you’re probably second-guessing wanting to stay with me, but I promise I will not touch any of your stuff ever again.” Damianos broke their silence. Laurent pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his eyes together for a moment. 

“Well, honestly, it’s either living with you or being homeless. So...” Laurent shrugged. 

“Oh...” Damianos’ voice dropped into a quiet murmur. 

“I can get myself more, you know. I’ll just have to wait till the end of the month.” 

“What happens at the end of the month?” Damianos asked, shifting back to allow the waitress to place their food before them.

“At the end of the month...I inherit my family estate. The one in Delpha. I should have had it years ago but, never mind.” 

“So how come you’re getting it now?” Laurent pushed around some of his food with his fork.

“My uncle who contested the will and got everything died.” 

“He contested the will? Your parent’s will?” Damianos asked, his thick dark eyebrows raising nearly to his hairline of soft curls. 

“And he won.”

“What an asshole.” Damianos blurted out without thinking and Laurent smirked at him.

“You know it’s not right to speak ill of the dead, Damianos.” Laurent said and was pleased that even his darker tone couldn’t fully conceal his embarrassed flush.   
“Don’t worry about it.” Laurent shrugged. “I have spoken ill about my uncle more times than not. I’m not offended by what you said. You were just stating the truth. He was an asshole. I only defend my family, and he is not family.” 

“I want to ask you if you have any family left, but I don’t want to make you sad.” Damianos admitted and Laurent felt a little warm in the chest by it’s honest sweetness. 

“I’ll save you the trouble of asking. No, I don’t. My mother was an only child and my uncle never had children before he died.” Thank Christ, Laurent didn’t say, but he thought it. Damianos gazed at him with an indescribable expression for a long moment. It wasn’t quite pity, but there was definite sadness there. Laurent liked it better when he smiled all the time. 

“You sure know how to start polite conversation, don’t you, Damianos?” Laurent asked, sipping the green tea he ordered as a paling substitute. It did absolutely nothing and tasted like the underside of a muddy shoe. 

“You can call me Damen, I don’t know if I said that to you already?” Damianos said. 

“I’ve met a Damen before, never a Damianos. Forgive me if your name has a certain novelty to it.”

“I like the way my name sounds with your Veretian accent. You speak Akielon very well, I must say. But those round Veretian vowels never leave you.” Damianos said warmly and Laurent fiddled with the scarf around his neck to distract himself to hold back the blush threatening to creep up his cheeks. 

“Yes, well I could do without brutish Akielons fumbling to say my name properly.” Laurent replied.

“Laurent.” Damianos said, testing out the name and listening to his own accent. “Laurent.” He repeated, mouth curving to try emulate the soft drop at the end of his name. “Not all Akielons are brutes, you princely Veretian snob.” Damianos said in near perfect Veretian. 

Laurent sat back in shock. Whatever his expression was it made Damianos pitch over in laughter, alerting some of the nearby diners and even earning them a few strange glances. 

“You absolute snake!” Laurent snapped, switching over to Veretian. “How could you not tell me you spoke Veretian?” 

Damianos shrugged. “It had yet to come up.” 

“You are unbelievable.” Laurent shook his head. “And I am not a snob, jackass.” Damianos laughed again. 

“You are a little bit.” 

 

After that Laurent and Damianos slipped solely into Veretian, idly chatting about Arles and growing up in Delpha between conflicting countries of Akielos and Vere. Laurent couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken in Veretian for so long. Usually he only spoke it with Lazar. But their friendship didn’t exactly consist of long drawn out discussion, more just snarky banter and heavily intricate insults. 

Although he wasn’t a native speaker, Damianos was admittedly more fluent in Veretian than Laurent was in Akielon, much to Damianos’ amusement. When Damianos had commented on it with a wry smile, Laurent had kicked him in the shin under the table. Without realising, Laurent didn’t draw his leg back under his chair, leaving it slightly pressed against Damianos’ knee.

They’d scooted closer together over the table without even thinking. Their elbows rested on the small table the bridged the gap between them and their faces grew closer as they reminisced about Delpha, or Delfeur, as Laurent stubbornly called it. They’d cornered themselves into a small bubble, the outside world and all its problems momentarily forgotten. 

“Damen?” Their bubble burst. 

“Jord! Hey, how’s it going?” Damianos greeted cheerfully. Laurent nearly swallowed his own tongue in surprise. He hadn’t seen Jord since Auguste’s wake where he’d stood like a ghost in the corner, a gangly seventeen year old in a suit mourning his best friend.

“I’m good. I...” Jord’s gaze finally settled on Laurent. He could see the flush drain from his cheeks, turning his skin ashen. 

“Oh!” Oblivious Damianos though Jord was waiting for an introduction. “Jord, this is -“

“Laurent.” Jord croaked and Damianos’ mouth hung open. Schooling his features, Laurent readjusted the scarf around his neck that suddenly felt like a boa constrictor.

“Hello, Jord. It’s been a while.” He said and Jord nodded, eyes darting to the door. 

“A....very long time. How are you?” Jord asked. He stood above their table, shifting his stance and it was obvious he was unsure what to do with his hands. 

“I’ve been better. But...this are turning around.” Laurent couldn’t stop his gaze from flitting to Damianos. 

“Good, that’s...good.” 

“Jord.” Laurent said, prompting Jord’s gaze up from his shoes. “We really don’t have to do this now. This is not the time or place frankly. “ 

“It’s not that I-“ Jord stammered.

“I know, Jord. I’ll see you around.” Laurent said and Jord nodded, relief clear on his face that he was given a way out of this uncomfortable situation. 

“You will. See you later, Damen.” Jord gave them a close lipped smile and exited the cafe with a tinkle of the bell above the door. 

 

Laurent sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes. Damianos sat quietly and expectantly, arms crossed over his broad chest. Laurent dropped his hands into his lap and raised a pale eyebrow at him. 

“I suppose you have some questions. Why don’t you start off by telling me how you know Jord?” Laurent crossed his legs under the table. 

“Remember Nik? My best friend whose moving in? They’re dating.” Damianos said simply. “And believe me I have about a thousand questions, but I’m only going to ask one: what on earth just happened?” Laurent rolled his eyes. 

“Your one questions opens up answers to many more questions.” 

“Exactly.” Damianos smirked. 

“Fine....Jord was Auguste’s best friend since they were toddlers. The night Auguste-“ Laurent sucked in a breath. “-had his accident, he was driving to go pick up Jord. Jord has always...felt a certain responsibility or guilt for Auguste’s death. To the point where he can hardly look me in the eye anymore.” 

Laurent felt a small pang in his chest and worked to smooth his features so Damianos wouldn’t see how much that actually affected him. Truth be told, Laurent had liked Auguste’s best friend. During Laurent’s preteen years Jord was practically living at their house, coming home with Auguste after school most days to lose to Auguste in video games. Jord wasn’t as outgoing or as extroverted as Auguste was, and that’s why Laurent liked him. Sometimes he would help Laurent with his math homework, mostly to show up Auguste and tease him about being a better brother than Auguste was. 

After Auguste’s wake, Jord had receded into the shadows and Laurent thought he’d never see him again. 

“Well...” Damianos said, bringing Laurent back up from his thoughts. “It seems our lives are more closely linked than we thought.” 

“Seems so.” They shared a small smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a feeling all my chapter titles are going to be tea related....idk why but I’m feelin it   
> Comments and kudos are lovely!


	3. Chamomile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurent’s starting to feel the side effects of missing his tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooo things are happening! Laurent is confused and frustrated and Damen is just confused.

Three days later, Laurent was drawn out of sleep by a indescribable fire running across his skin, into his bones and stirring in his stomach. Laurent gasped into wakefulness, his body curling in on itself instinctively at the sensation. 

It wasn’t pain. It was something else entirely and it was turning him inside out. Panting, Laurent tossed the covers from his overheating body and very nearly screamed. The only reason he swallowed it back was so that Damen wouldn’t burst through his door to save him from an imaginary danger.

Then he’d inevitably see Laurent in his current state and Laurent would be forced to pack up his bags and sleep in his car out of shame and gut clenching embarrassment. No one could see him like this. This wasn’t right, this wasn’t normal for him. 

He was hard. Incredibly so. It ached somewhere deep in his gut. Covering his face with his hands Laurent breathed in deeply a few times, counting through his breaths. But when he peaked between his fingers it was still there, mocking him in the way it twitched for attention. 

Laurent was mortified. Of course, he hadn’t lived under a rock his entire life. He knew this was a thing. He’d watched movies and seen television shows that talked about...this. But the point was that it didn’t happen to him...ever. 

Growing up the way he did, especially after Auguste died, there hadn’t been any space in his life for positive sexual exploration. In fact, he’d grown to abhorre it. It seemed brutish and over-sexualised. It seemed unnecessary. During his formative years, before everything in his life went to hell, his brother had tried to give Laurent as pseudo-sex talk once. Their father was too uncomfortable to do it himself after the disaster of Auguste’s lecture about the birds and the bees when he was twelve that had ended with Auguste blowing up condoms into balloons and testing their water holding capabilities in the kitchen sink. 

Auguste didn’t say much, he didn’t know much back then of course. At least not about sex. But he had first hand experience of burgeoning puberty and the riotous hell it could bring with it. So...yeah, Laurent knew what morning wood was. He’d just never experienced it before. Frankly, he thought this was quite extreme. 

Surely it wasn’t always this...urgent? How did people start their day like this if that were true? 

Cautiously, Laurent snuck his hand under the waistband of his pyjamas and took hold of himself. 

“Christ!” He near shouted through clenched teeth as sensation rippled through him. Laurent withdrew his hand as if it had burned him. The skin was so hot, he wouldn’t have been surprised if it did. He felt a little lightheaded and his heart was beating louder in his chest than usual. What was this? 

Arousal. A voice whispered to him in the back of his mind and Laurent balked. Was it? Is this it? Biologically, he knew that being hard meant you were aroused of course, he wasn’t an idiot. But he didn’t know how else it affected a person. His skin was flushing with heat and under his sleep shirt his nipples were peaked, he could feel them scratching against the material. 

He was oversensitised. Maybe he needed a doctor? Good god, no, Laurent backtracked. What would he say to his doctor? I’m worried I’m suddenly able to get an erection after years of believed trauma-induced impotence, help me?   
That would only end in embarrassment for both parties. 

Maybe this was a one off? Perhaps he’d been having an arousing dream that he’d forgotten upon waking? Now he had to deal with the consequences. He didn’t want to touch himself. He knew it was the sure fire way to getting rid of this particular problem but he couldn’t make himself do it. He was afraid of the memories it would upturn. 

Gingerly, Laurent crept towards his bedroom door. He wanted to cover himself, but was too afraid he’d touch it and make it worse. Ducking his head into the hallway, Laurent listened for any signs of movement on the upper level. A clang of a pan downstairs sent a flood of relief through him. Quickly he padded across the hardwood floors and into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door swiftly behind him. 

Shucking off his clothes, Laurent jumped into the shower and with a deep breath to prepare himself he let the spray of ice cold water rain down on him. The shock against his heated skin felt like pinpricks. He immediately began to shiver. But he stayed under the spray, eyes clenched shut and he willed his mind to think of unpleasant things. He wouldn’t go too far down that road of course. He had his limit of unpleasant things. Some were hidden too far deep down to bring out into the light for any purpose. 

Much to Laurent’s relief, his erection eased after ten excruciating minutes under the cold torrent. Feeling a little shaky and still shivering, Laurent changed back into his pyjamas and ducked back into his room to throw on an oversized sweater to stop his chattering teeth. 

 

Cautiously, Laurent made his way downstairs. He had the irrational fear that somehow Damen would know. That he would be able to see his shame written across his face. 

Damen was facing the stove in the kitchen, cracking eggs into water. One thing that Laurent had learnt in the few days they’d been cohabiting, was that in the comfort of his central heated home, Damen often forgot to wear clothes. Perhaps he was still getting used to having a stranger in his house. Perhaps sometimes Damen woke up in the morning and forgot Laurent even existed. 

This morning, Damen had obviously rolled out of bed, into the shower and down the stairs as he wore his charcoal grey sweatpants and nothing more. Laurent felt his cheeks heating as he appraised the fine dips and lines of Damen’s shoulders and the dimples pushed into his lower back like thumbs into play dough. Laurent stopped just shy of the kitchen, idling in the living room. He wasn’t sure how to announce his presence. He’d been standing there too long to make a casual entrance anymore. 

Damen turned and jumped back in surprise at seeing Laurent. His dazzling smile swept across his face easily and he gave a soft chuckle. 

“Jesus, you’re so quiet when you walk around. It’s hard to get used to.” Laurent shrugged, consciously drawing his gaze up from Damen’s dark nipples. 

“I suppose it’s hard to understand when you’re used to the sound of a stampede even time you run down the stairs.” Laurent slithered onto a kitchen stool, exhuming an air of confidence he didn’t feel. Damen’s gaze was particularly piercing this morning. Maybe Laurent was just paranoid that he could see straight through him. 

“Okay, you got me there. My mother always used to snap at me for dragging my feet when I walked.” Damen said, good naturedly, buttering toast for the two of them. Damen insisted on making Laurent breakfast every morning he was able. So far it had been every morning. Damen worked as a personal trainer at an upscale gym in the city centre so he had flexible hours during the week. Which meant that when Laurent was home, more often than not, so was Damen. 

Damen smeared avocado across the bread and licked some from his thumb, eyes catching Laurent for the barest second. But it was enough. Laurent felt his cock twitch in his pants and he squeaked, hand immediately covering his mouth. But, it was too late, Damen had heard it. 

“You okay? You seem a bit off this morning?” A line creased between his brows, concern and a bit of suspicion tilting his head to the side. 

“I’m fine.” Laurent insisted, shuffling forward in his seat so that the overhanging lip of the counter shielded his lap from Damen’s view. Laurent couldn’t bear to think of the humiliation he’d feel if Damen caught him with an erection. He would be absolutely disgusted. Damen would take one look at him and cast him out for his perversion. 

“You sure? You’re looking a little peaky. Are you getting sick?” Damen asked. Laurent sat up straighter in his seat. Sick! Yes! Perfectly understandable behaviour for a sick person. Thank you, Damianos. 

“I believe so. I haven’t had a cold since I was fifteen.” Laurent mused, sniffling for good measure and hoping Damen couldn’t tell it was put on. Damen hummed, turning his back to slide their eggs onto their plates and flick on the stove to get the kettle going. Laurent liked that he still used a stovetop kettle instead of the electric ones. His was bottle green with burn marks around the bottom and a piercing whistle that cut through the whole house, demanding attention. 

Damen pulled a chair out from his side of the counter, placing him opposite Laurent. Cutting into his toast, Laurent was grateful for the distraction. He kept his head down the entire time he ate, his thoughts torn between deciding when to look up and see if Damen was looking at him, and the semi he was currently sporting under the counter. They were both equally troublesome trains of thought. 

He did eventually look up when Damen pushed a mug of steaming chamomile tea into his line of sight. Their gazes caught and Damen smiled, almost self consciously. 

“I know it’s not the best substitute, but it’s apparently good for colds.” Damen said with a shrug, head ducking slightly. Laurent took a tentative sip. 

“It’s...adequate.” Laurent said and Damen smiled down at his plate. Laurent wished he would stop smiling for one second, it was making his stomach tingle. His brain was turning to mush. Unbidden, Laurent began to fantasise about what Damen would do if Laurent leaned across the counter and kissed him. What would he taste like? And were his lips as soft as they looked? 

Laurent dropped his cutlery with a clatter on his plate. Across from him, Damen startled in his seat. 

“Laurent?” Damen said softly, too softly, too kindly. Laurent was confused. Why was Damen treating him like this? Like he cared? Why did he smile at him so much with that endless warmth in his eyes? It was all too much. 

Without answering, Laurent got up and cleared his plate, hyper aware of Damen swivelling his head to watch him. Once his plate was cleared, Laurent walked briskly out of the kitchen. He prayed a silent prayer of thanks that his erection had flagged during breakfast enough to allow him to make his escape. 

“Did I do something?” Damen called after him, his voice turned down at the edges with what sounded like hurt. 

“No.” Laurent replied in a clipped tone, taking the stairs two at a time. He was only able to breath again once his door was closed behind him. 

Taking in big gulps of air, Laurent let his head thump back against the door. That wasn’t fair to Damen, he knew. But his panic had overridden his sense and he just had to get away. 

 

It had been years since Laurent had entertained any sort of sexual or even romantic fantasy. In his first year of university, Laurent had been swayed by his general history tutor, Torveld. Torveld was in his mid thirties with dark hair that was beginning to speckle along his sideburns and gold wire rim glasses that made his eyes more defined. Laurent had admitted his crush to himself after a month in his class. 

Torveld was Patran, but he spoke to Laurent in clear Veretian when they shared ideas after class. Torveld was obviously smitten with him. Even without any meaningful romantic experience, Laurent could tell, and he felt powerful because of it. His beauty and his wit had changed a man, made him think certain things and act a certain way. It was kind of heady to have that sway over another person: 

They shared a few trysts here the there throughout the semester. Discreetly of course. Torveld could be disciplined if the board found out about them. Torveld kissed him soundly, one hand on his shoulder, fingers trailing over his neck. Laurent had liked it. But Torveld eventually wanted more, Laurent didn’t blame him. But he couldn’t. Laurent broke it off before Torveld inevitably grew tired of him and ended it himself. This way he could salvage some of his dignity. 

During their time together, Laurent would spend his classes thinking about the kisses they’d shared and analysing how he felt about them. He’d conjured fantasies that were often cut short when things got too heavy. 

But that was years ago. Laurent passed beautiful people on the street daily and felt absolutely nothing. Men tried to buy him coffee at Princeling at least twice a month, and again, not even a stir. Damen was...infuriatingly beautiful, Laurent would admit. But why, seemingly out of nowhere, did Laurent want to slide across the counter that had separated them and land straight in his lap? It didn’t make sense. 

Frustrated, Laurent tossed himself back into bed. Maybe if he went to sleep, when he woke up things would be back to normal. He would be back to normal. Laurent buried himself into the covers, eyes squeezing shut as confused tears burned his eyes. Don’t you dare cry over this. He hadn’t cried since he’d last visited Auguste’s grave, nearly a year gone now. He wouldn’t cry over something so trivial as being frustrated and confused. He’d spent most of his teenage years frustrated and confused. It should be the norm for him by now. And yet, it kept welling inside him, building up the back of his throat, aching in his chest until he let out one quiet choking sound. 

That was it. That was all he’d allow himself. 

 

About an hour later, Laurent could hear Damen moving around, getting ready for work most likely. Laurent heard Damen stop right outside his door and he tensed, curling the duvet tight around his shoulders. He held his breath for what felt like minutes before Damen’s shadow disappeared from the crack under his door. 

Laurent just couldn’t deal with Damen’s quiet understanding and concern. He couldn’t handle the inevitable questions that he couldn’t answer himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wheels are in motion - Laurent will eventually figure out what is happening to him ;) and Damen will definitely be there to help him through it as his....roommate (winks)


	4. Rolling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurent and Damen try to smooth over the awkwardness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But if a shorter chapter this time around! But I’ll make it up to you I’ll make the next chapter extra long :)))

Damen was absent from the house for the rest of the day. Laurent didn’t know if this was due to a busy work schedule or to give Laurent some time alone, but either way he was grateful. 

Curled up on the living room couch, Laurent watched sitcom reruns while he researched on his laptop. So far he couldn’t find any answers to what was happening to him as he sifted through unhelpful forums and quickly exited out of porn sites he was redirected to. 

Although he had stayed flaccid for the remainder of the day, an unsettling feeling persisted in his gut. It was frankly quite nauseating. But he would take sickness over...that, any day. 

Hunched over his laptop, Laurent was too absorbed in reading a scientific report on hormone regulation to hear the jingle of keys at the front door. Damen let himself in with his usual brutish grace, tossing his keys into the ceramic bowl by the door and dumping his gym bag at his feet. The noise startled Laurent out of his gaze and he quickly slammed his laptop shut, holding it close to his chest. 

Damen paused, eyes scanning over Laurent for a long drawn out moment. Laurent’s mouth opened but no words came to mind, not even a sarcastic comment. His mouth clicked shut again and Damen looked just about as lost as to what to say to break this awkward silence. 

“I’m going to go shower.” Damen finally settled on, leaving before Laurent could even nod. 

God, this was awful. Laurent sighed, dropping his laptop onto the couch beside him. He leant his elbows on his knees and ran his fingers through his white blonde hair, scratching across his scalp with a frustrated groan. 

Laurent pulled himself to his feet and trudged his way into the kitchen. He began to search through cupboards and drawers until he found a shelf of bottles of wine. Mouth twisted in thought, Laurent picked up the one that looked cheapest and cracked the seal. For a moment he contemplated drinking straight from the bottle, but opted for a large wine glass instead. Even in his desperation, he still had standards.

The first glass went down quite smoothly. Especially considering Laurent’s aversion to alcohol. His Uncle had taught him the value of a good red. Secluded in his office, Laurent sat opposite his uncle as he swirled a glass beneath his small upturned nose and drank his first full glass of alcohol at thirteen. In the moment he’d felt so grown up and rebellious. He’d made a comment about how his parents never would have let him do this, which had pleased his uncle and he’d laughed warmly, dropping a hand onto Laurent shoulder and squeezing. 

Glass two went down nearly as quickly, not as smoothly. That was how Damen found him minutes later, perched on a kitchen stool, wearing a long sleeved navy top, sweatpants and socks, his hair a tousled mop and his red stained lips pressed against the rim of a wine glass. 

“I hope I didn’t open an investment wine.” Laurent said in lieu of greeting, averting his eyes from Damen to pretend to read the label. It was a 2014 wine, he doubted it would be worth anything. 

“That was a gift from my cousin. She brings one every time she comes over for dinner.” Damen sat down opposite Laurent, their positions now a reverse of how they’d been just that morning. 

Laurent nodded, topping up his glass. Damen watched him curiously. Laurent was not a heavy drinker, wasn’t even a moderate drinker. Which unfortunately meant that he was a lightweight. After three generous glasses, he was feeling unsteady and his mouth felt a bit numb.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” Damen asked. “Because I feel like you’re going to tell me something you don’t really want to say.” 

That was partly true. Laurent did want to say something. He wanted to say many things. He wanted to berate Damen for being so kind to a stranger. He wanted to wipe that soft look from his eyes and ask him why? Just...why. To all of it. To everything. 

Instead, what came out of his mouth was.  
“There’s something wrong with me, Damen.” 

Damen crossed his arms and leant onto the counter, bringing him a fraction closer to Laurent. 

“I don’t understand. Are you sick? You shouldn’t be drinking if you’re sick you know.” He said and he reminded Laurent so much of his father in that moment that Laurent dissolved into a peal of giggles. 

“I don’t know what I am, Damen.” Laurent kept laughing as Damen grew more serious. “I don’t understand why I’m feeling like this. I hate being so...out of control.” 

“You know I can only help you if you tell me what’s wrong.” Damen said. Laurent stopped laughing and looked at Damen, really looked at him. He was such an intimidating figure physically. Even wearing pyjamas, his muscle and size was somewhat overwhelming. But where his body was hard, his eyes were soft, whiskey brown. Laurent thought about reaching across to brush aside the curls that hung over his forehead. 

He longed for small intimacies. It had been years since someone had done more than shake his hand. Auguste used to hug him nearly every day. Laurent always felt safe when his older brother would grip him tight. Laurent would never forget the embrace they shared when Auguste told him about their parents. It had been nearly suffocating in its strength and lasted for minutes instead of seconds. Laurent had cried into his brother’s shoulder and Auguste had let some tears fall into his hair. But it felt okay, for those moments, that their parents had left them, because they still had each other. 

“I’m so tired, Damen.” Laurent’s voice was barely above a whisper. 

“You keep saying my name.” Damen said after a moment and Laurent furrowed his brow at its abruptness.  
“You keep calling me Damen, too. You used to only call me Damianos.” Damen elaborated. Laurent looked down at the red swirling liquid in his glass. It was true. He didn’t know when he started thinking of Damianos as Damen, as a friend instead of a stranger. The transition was so smooth he hadn’t even noticed the final jump. 

“Damianos is too hard to say when you’re drunk.” Laurent said, eyes drooping. Damen finally smiled again, flashing Laurent those dimples that made him momentarily look five instead of twenty five. 

“How about we get you to bed, huh?” Damen said, soothingly. Laurent nodded, leaving his glass behind and unsteadily hopping off the stool. He stumbled to the side, his socked feet sliding on the tiled floor. Damen was there to steady him with a hand on his shoulder. Laurent felt the touch through his sweater. 

“Easy.” Damen murmured, shifting his hand to press between Laurent’s shoulder blades to guide him upstairs. Standing this close, Laurent could feel the heat from his body radiating off him in waves. He could also smell the shower gel Damen used. Shaking his head slightly to clear his thoughts, Laurent set his focus on making it into bed without falling in a heap. 

Sitting firmly on the edge of his bed, Laurent closed his eyes tight to steady the tilting room. 

“Are you alright in here?” Damen asked, moving away and towards the door. Laurent wanted to grab him by the wrist and pull him down to sit beside him, but he was already out of grasp. 

“I’m fine.” Laurent said, flopping back on his mattress.

“I’m going to bring a bucket in just in case, okay?” Damen ducked out of the room. 

When he came back, Laurent was right way round on the bed and trying to toe off his socks, making frustrated noises in the back of his throat. 

“Uh, need a hand?” Damen asked, a little amused by the tantrum Laurent was throwing because he wasn’t coordinated enough to remove his socks. 

“I’m too hot.” Laurent grumbled, dropping his feet in Damen’s lap. Damen chuckled, peeling the socks from Laurent feet and tossing them across the room. Laurent’s feet were remarkably pale, the skin thin to near translucence. Damen’s hand ran over the top of his foot, and Laurent stifled a moan. Damen stilled for a moment before withdrawing completely. 

“The buckets right beside the bed. Drink some water when you can.” Laurent watched Damen through slitted eyes as he hesitated in the doorway, eyes sweeping over Laurent, making his wine ruddy cheeks darken. 

“Goodnight, Laurent.” 

“Goodnight, Damen.” Laurent said, purposefully using his small name. Damen had a flicker of a smile on his face as he shut the door behind him. 

As Laurent descended slowly into a drunken doze, he could feel the delicate skin on the top of his foot still tingling from Damen’s touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have such a love for drunk Laurent. It is my favourite thing in the world.


	5. Aromatic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hangover, bombolonis and a realisation.

Laurent woke the next morning with a sweet yet foul taste in the back of his mouth. Rinsing twice with mouthwash, Laurent spat the remainder of last night’s embarrassing mishap down the bathroom sink. 

What Damen must think of him. Laurent studied himself in the mirror above the vanity with a cruel calculation. His eyes were ragged, their blue hue dulled to resemble a stormy ocean instead of a deep sea glacier. Deep circles like bruises drew his face down into a corpse-like shallowness. 

He wondered when he last felt alright. When he last felt himself. Before Damen, before his uncle’s death rocked his steady pace life, was he happy? Content maybe was the right word for it. He had a comforting routine. School, study, reading, pastries at Princeling and the occasional gathering of friends. Which honestly mostly consisted of friends of Lazar, and acquaintances of Laurent’s. It was a boring life, he would admit. But it was predictable. He liked predictable. 

Maybe, once he was back home for a while, he’d rediscover who he was. Laurent didn’t have plans to live in his childhood home permanently. He had no need for a nine bedroom home on an acreage in Delpha. He did miss the horses. 

Laurent’s plan was to return home for a few months to regroup, finish his university semester then move back to Ios for a fresh start. He wouldn’t sell his family’s estate. At least not for a while. It meant too much to him to hand off to strangers. For years the house and grounds had been attended to by a small team of maintenance men and caretakers. Laurent would pay them to continue to care for his home and the horses. 

He wondered if his palomino Buttercup was still alive. Laurent hoped she was. She was his show horse during his late teens. A fine animal with a sweet temperament and a penchant for eating grapes out of his hand. She used to greet him with a huff, nosing at his hair, her warm breath tickling him. 

It had been nearly four years since Laurent had seen her. He wondered if she would even remember him.

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Laurent straightened, combing his hair back with his fingers. 

“You’re not being sick in there are you?” Damen asked, a conflicting mix of concern and amusement in his voice. 

“No.” Laurent sounded petulant to his own ears. 

“Alright. Well I’m making bacon and eggs downstairs if you want some. No pressure.” Despite Laurent’s hangover, he felt his stomach rumble and it occurred to him that he hadn’t had anything for dinner the night before to accompany his wine. 

“I’ll be down in a minute.” Laurent called back. He spent the next ten minutes trying to revive his appearance. If he walked downstairs looking like he did, Damen would look at him with those doe eyes and Laurent couldn’t handle that this early. So, he washed his face, scrubbing back some colour into his cheeks and combed back his hair into a tight braid. Stopping by his room, Laurent changed out of his pyjamas into a soft white button up shirt and black jeans. Content that he looked partially his put together self, Laurent sighed and headed downstairs. 

Damen looked quite stunned at his semi polished appearance when he slipped onto his usual stool. 

“Morning, Damianos.” Laurent said. 

“Um..good morning.” Damen stumbled a bit and Laurent felt a little thrilled at the thought of Damen being surprised by him. It made him feel more...normal. Laurent always had a taste for expensive clothing and he knew that when he put some effort in he could cut quite an intimidating figure. 

“Is this what you look like hungover? Because...that’s not natural.” Damen said, eyebrows raised and Laurent smiled around his fork. 

“Believe me, I’m feeling it.” Laurent said and Damen chuckled. Some of the tension eased and they were able to enjoy their meal together without any questions or apologies. Across the counter they shared furtive glances, each of them anticipating the other to say something, but instead just smiling softly before turning back to their plates. 

It was surprisingly comfortable. Laurent didn’t much like eating with other people. His uncle always used to pester him to sit up straighter, don’t lean your arms on the table, use the correct utensils, eat slower, eat more. Instead of being charged with hostility, the breakfast they shared was almost a coalescence. A sort of understanding between them that there were many things they didn’t understand about the other, and for now it was okay for that to be the extent of it. 

 

Around mid-morning Laurent began gathering his things in the living room when Damen trotted down the stairs. The sound was like rolling thunder and Laurent rolled his eyes at him, trying not to smile at Damen’s answering grin. 

“Off somewhere?” Damen asked. 

“I have to go pick up a textbook from uni.” Laurent answered, shouldering his bag. 

“You’re at UA aren’t you? I went there for a semester before I transferred over to my PT course. Hey, uh...do you mind if I tag along? I sort of miss the campus and oh! Do they still have that coffee cart that has the bombolonis?” Damen was nearly bouncing from foot to foot in his excitement and Laurent wouldn’t be the one to cut him down.

“I believe so. I’m only going in for the textbook.” Laurent reminded him and Damen shrugged. 

“That’s alright. Maybe we can go to lunch after or something.” Damen said casually, walking into the kitchen to grab his wallet and phone. 

“...okay.” Laurent said softly. Damen smiled, grabbing his keys and heading out the door with an ‘I’ll drive!’, leaving Laurent reeling. After the display last night, Laurent was quite shocked that Damen wasn’t avoiding him like the plague, let alone making effort to spend time with him. Laurent was well aware he’d made a fool of himself last night. But maybe, just maybe, Damen liked his foolishness. 

 

Laurent fell in love with the University of Akeilos campus the first day of classes two years ago. The main court was encircled by colonnades, modelled after the ancient Akeilon architecture styles. The court itself was padded with lush grass where a smattering of students lounged in the sun. The campus itself was so large, Laurent hadn’t even been into every building. But he liked that about UA. Walking through the colonnades, he just felt like one fish in a sea. Not insignificant, but a cog in the works, blissfully anonymous. 

Laurent was not a particularly shy person. In his classes he was known to decimate fellow students with his sharpness and intellect. But outside of class, walking around the grounds he became a different person. A more relaxed version of himself. 

Out of the corner of his eye Laurent could see Damen looking at him.  
“What?” Laurent asked, eyebrows raised suspiciously. Damen shook his head, a glassy film over his eyes clearing.

“Nothing it’s just..” Laurent gave him a pointed look. “You look good here. Comfortable. It suits you.” Damen admitted and Laurent turned away to hide the flush in his cheeks. 

“Oh.” Laurent said. 

 

They split up at the entrance to the main court, Laurent heading towards the social sciences and humanities library, while Damen hung back to look for his famed coffee cart. 

Laurent was a little relieved to be free of Damen for a little while. Damen’s presence was too...overwhelming. Having his full attention focused your way was frankly unsettling. But Laurent could not say definitively that he didn’t like it. Because most of the time, when Damen turned his way and smiled that goddamn smile, Laurent’s stomach did twists and flips. What was unsettling was that it was a feeling Laurent had never experienced before. It wasn’t the rolling waves of anxiety that coiled his stomach into knots. This was almost...pleasant. 

It was just one more thing on the endless list of things Laurent didn’t understand. Since moving in with Damen, that list kept growing exponentially.

 

Tracking down Damen after he’d found his book was easier than he thought it would be. As it grew closer to midday, students were filtering through pathways in clumps all heading for the refectory. Above the mass of people, however, Laurent almost immediately spotted a mop of familiar curly black hair. Damen absolutely towered over those around him, like a lighthouse on a hill, drawing Laurent though the sea of people towards him. 

“I forgot how busy it gets here.” Damen commented when he managed to push his way to his side. 

“Almost like it’s the largest college in Akeilos.” Laurent said, smirking when Damen rolled his eyes at him. 

“Yeah, alright wise-ass. Where’s somewhere quiet we can eat?” Damen asked. 

“Eat?” Laurent’s nose creased in confusion. Damen held up two brown paper bags with a child-like grin. 

 

Laurent guided them down to the lake and gardens at the edge of campus where Laurent sometimes took breaks during his classes. They settled on a shaded patch of grass, sitting cross-legged, Damen leant up against the trunk of a tree.   
Laurent folded his legs beside him, brushing away some twigs and seed pods idly. Damen handed him one of the brown paper bags and Laurent accepted with a small thank you, that for some reason made Damen’s eyes sparkle. 

Inside the bag was a Nutella filled bomboloni. Laurent lifted the bag to his face and it’s warm, sweet smell filled his nose. Damen was still watching him in some anticipation. 

“I knew you were a secret sweet tooth.” Damen said, taking an overly large bite of his own bomboloni, Nutella oozing out the sides and smearing over his cheeks. Damen looked up at Laurent in shock, eyes comically wide. There was a beat of silence and then something quite unexpected happened. Laurent began to laugh. 

Not just a polite chuckle, but loud, high pitched cackles that brought tears to his eyes. He couldn’t help it. It built up within him, spilling out of his mouth in tinkling waves. After a stunned pause, Damen joined him, his own boisterous laughter overlaying Laurent’s. 

Laurent felt light-headed and he clutched his stomach as he began to calm himself. Damen was still attempting to clean the spread from his face, and Laurent watched on with amusement. 

“Is it all gone yet?” Damen asked and Laurent handed him a tissue with a shake of his head. Damen sighed, although he was still grinning and took the tissue to wipe down his entire face. 

Laurent’s stomach ached from laughing and as he stretched out his spine he tried to remember the last time he had laughed that hard. Years. Before Auguste, maybe even before their parents. 

“You have developed quite the habit of staring at me lately, Damianos.” Laurent said. Damen actually flushed. Well, as far as Laurent could tell under his darker skin tone. But it was there and it made Laurent strangely flattered that he could elicit that sort of reaction. 

“Sorry, sorry. I’m making you uncomfortable.” Damen said. 

“You’re not.” Laurent quickly intercepted and Damen’s smile changed to something softer. 

“That’s good. I didn’t mean to stare so obviously. It just...you haven’t laughed like that before. You’re beautiful when you laugh.” Damen admitted. 

“You shouldn’t say things like that.” Laurent said, picking his food into small pieces without eating it. 

“Why not?” Damen asked and Laurent met his gaze. 

“Because if you keep saying it I’m going to start believing you mean it.” Damen’s expression rippled with a range of emotions. It was easy for Laurent to see each one pass across his face: surprise, sadness before settling into a sympathetic half smile. 

“I guess I’m just going to have to keep saying it until you believe I mean it.” Laurent’s heartbeat tripped over its own rhythm. He could feel something expanding in his chest, pushing up his throat making it tight. How was he supposed to respond to that? They had only known each other for a week. How could a near stranger make Laurent feel like this? Like he couldn’t breathe, like his stomach was flip-flopping around his torso and his heart was punching the front of his rib cage? But he wasn’t a stranger, not really. Damen was kind and understanding. He was a good cook but hopeless doing his laundry. He could watch endless hours of trashy TV and laugh at every lame joke. Damen was the kind of person who didn’t push, didn’t try to take more than was willingly given. Damen was the kind of person Laurent could see himself falling for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter made my heart happy writing it. I hope it made your heart happy reading it. <3


	6. Whistle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurent gets...experimental.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now this is where this fic earns a bit of it’s explicit tag ;))

Things changed between them over the next few days. After the ‘bomboloni incident’, as Laurent termed it in his head, their whole dynamic shifted. Instead of spending his days up in his room, studying or reading, Laurent began to feel comfortable enough to set himself up in the living room. Usually Damen was already there, feet kicked up on the coffee table, watching reality cooking shows. He would smile when Laurent brought down his laptop or slung himself over the armchair with a book. 

They talked more now as well. Idle chit chat in the mornings over breakfast, sometimes deeper conversations at night. The previous night Damen had told him a summarised version of his breakup with his old girlfriend, Jokaste, after Laurent had questioned the blank frames on the mantle. A terrible story of familial betrayal and heartbreak that made Laurent see Damen in a different light, another building block that made him who he was. 

Damen was very forthcoming with his stories, giving away information freely and without doubt. Laurent grew to know him much more over those days. Yet, some guilt stirred within him that he was not exactly reciprocating. Laurent was a vault with a peephole in its door. You could see inside, but everything was distorted and unclear. And don’t even try the combination, it locked from the inside. 

It was difficult for him to reveal even the most minuscule, insignificant things about himself. Because information was knowledge, and knowledge could be welded to hold power over you. But he was trying. When Damen asked him questions about himself he tried resisting the urge to clam up. 

Laurent had freely given Damen the information about his loss and his inheritance. To someone else that might seem like intimate details, but to Laurent it was all public record. He had been humiliated in a courtroom of people at eighteen by his uncle, there wasn’t more that could happen, not now that his uncle was dead. 

Now, Laurent held back the details of his behaviour since moving in. He’d not yet offered any explanation for his drunken words that night Damen had helped him to bed. He wanted to tell someone about it. The spiralling feelings picked up by the wind like kicked up dirt. The sudden changes to his body and his reactions to others, mostly Damen. Everyone morning since that first, Laurent had woken up aroused. The only exception being his morning spent trying to get out of bed without throwing up an entire bottle of wine. 

Something was still going on. And Laurent had this dreadful feeling it would get worse before it got better. 

Which it did. 

Laurent’s skin became so sensitive to touch, it was as remarkable as it was alarming. The feeling of his sheets against his skin was like a caress, sending goosebumps springing up on his arms. All day, beneath his layers his nipples remained stiff and peaked, rubbing incessantly against the material of his shirt. It was extremely hard to concentrate. 

Luckily, some god took mercy on Laurent for once, since Damen was called into work a full shift at the gym that morning so he wouldn’t be around to see Laurent squirming. 

Laurent laid himself out on his bed having stripped out of his clothes. His chest was fluttering with his elevated breaths and his cheeks felt hot. He wanted to soothe the tingling feeling running in waves across his skin. Laurent tried rubbing the sensation away with his hand, but the gentler touch of his fingertips across his belly made him twitch. He was hard again. Not surprisingly. 

This time he couldn’t freeze it away under the shower spray. There was no way he would subject himself to the onslaught of sensation it would bring with it. He was too sensitive for that. 

Laurent ached in the pit of his gut and he hesitantly laid his hand on the join of his hip. The skin at the hollow of his hip bone was soft and thin. He’d never noticed before. He wondered what it would feel like to have someone else touch him there. Someone else, meaning Damen. 

Damen’s hands were so large, Laurent bet that if he cupped both hands around Laurent’s waist his fingers would meet in the middle. A small thrill rippled down Laurent’s spine at the thought. 

Slowly, Laurent let his fingers trailed a path across the faint swell of his belly and around to his other hip, circumventing the place that was asking for his own touch. An unbidden thought worked it’s way to the forefront of his mind as he lay in anticipation. What, exactly, would Damianos do if he walked in at that moment? 

Laurent felt a shiver pass over him at the thought. Here he was, naked, face and neck pinking with arousal, nipples peaked and cock hard. He would be a torrid display. But what would Damianos do? Would he run away out of embarrassment or disgust? Possibly. 

But what if he stayed? 

Laurent pushed back the hair from his face so it splayed out across the bedding. He knew Damen found him at least aesthetically pleasing to look at. But what if he wanted him? What if seeing Laurent like this was his own fantasy? 

So many ‘ifs’. 

Laurent could picture it so easily when he closed his eyes. The stunned look on his face, standing in the doorway, his dark eyes so wide as a flush pushed through his dark skin. Damen would close the door behind him and stalk towards Laurent without saying a word besides his name. “Laurent” He would murmur, reverence in the sound and his expression. 

Laurent loved the way Damen said his name. With his Akielon accent and his Veretian language skills, it was a mix of both countries’ sounds together: A harsh ‘L’ with the Veretian soft ‘T’ at the end. But it would sound different whispered in his ear. Damen would want to take his time, teasing Laurent with plush kisses and soft caresses until he dissolved into a puddle for him. 

Laurent could see Damen’s bulk hovering above him, a bright smile on his face, even as his eyes grew darker. Laurent wondered what it would feel like to have their bodies pressed together, no clothing between them. With their chests fully aligned and their legs tangled. He could only imagine the heat that poured from Damen’s skin and delicious pressure of their hips locked together. 

Laurent gasped into the empty room. Cautiously, he moved his hand to encircle the base of his cock, which twitched appreciatively in his grasp. It felt good, but the sensation was dulled, yet it promised more. Laurent pictured Damen’s large hand grasping him, thick fingers squeezing at all the right spots. 

Laurent began to stroke himself slowly, a little unsure of the rhythm yet. On an upstroke he swiped his thumb over the soft head and his legs spasmed as he gasped again through his nose. It was too much already. 

But he kept going. He was determined to see this through. This was normal, he kept repeating to himself. Everyone has done this. He’d had this part of his teenage years taken away from him. This experimental period where you learnt everything you could about your own body. Laurent had never had this. He knew his body. But in a strictly secular way, anatomical and functional.

Laurent wouldn’t let things escape his control anymore. This was his body. It was obviously telling him something. And it was about time he started listening. 

With his eyes screwed shut in concentration, Laurent began to work himself with more intent. As his fantasy unwound itself behind his eyelids, it became easier. 

Damen’s mouth was everywhere, his touch was suffocating but in the most intensely pleasurable way. Shouldering his way between Laurent’s thighs, in his mind, Damen’s mouth attached itself to his inner thigh, licking and biting and turning Laurent into an incoherent mess. What it would feel like to plunge his fingers through that thick curly hair and hold on for dear life. It was too easy to imagine Damen’s head between his pale thighs, the occasional glance up to make sure what he was doing was what Laurent wanted. God, he wanted. He wanted this so bad that it coiled fire in his belly and set his heart into overdrive. 

Laurent’s hand moved faster, experimentally pushing the tip of his thumb into the slit and crying out at the intense sensation. Precome dribbled lazily out of his cock, slicking the way as his movements became more feverish. He could feel it rolling in waves, cresting then falling, cresting then falling, but not breaking. He wanted to it to break, he needed it to. 

Maybe he was too tense. Consciously, Laurent released each wound muscle in his body with a heavy exhale. Regrouping, Laurent slowed down his strokes slightly and tried to focus on the current sensation, not the desired destination. 

In his mind, Damen was looking up at him with pleading eyes, his slick mouth hovering above his cock. With a nod of approval, Damen sucked the tip into his mouth. 

Laurent shuddered at the mere thought. Laurent himself found the act quite degrading. But for some reason, he knew Damen would not think the same. Maybe he didn’t like participating in it either, that was fine with Laurent. But if he did... 

There was no doubt in his mind that Damen would be incredible. Enthusiastic, attentive and selfish for Laurent’s pleasure. 

Laurent could feel another crest of pleasure building and this one felt like it would break. One hand on his cock and the other grasping his own hair, Laurent came to the thought of hollowed out cheeks and deep brown eyes. 

The wave broke and it left Laurent devastated in its wake. He shook like a leaf, momentarily out of control of his own movements. Thick spend coated his hand and stomach. 

Intense pleasure that he’d never experienced before sent shocks through his whole body and he couldn’t hold back the soft sounds he was making. It was intense. Overwhelming. Divine. 

It took Laurent a long while to catch his breath. He felt like he was melding into the fabric of the covers. With limbs filled with lead, Laurent eventually rose from the bed to wipe himself down with tissues. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the dresser and paused. 

Laurent looked absolutely wrecked. His hair was mussed from thrashing around on the bed and from his own fingers. His eyes were eclipsed by their pupil and his lips were bitten a salacious red. 

Deep down Laurent could feel a sense of shame kicking it way to the surface. But he stamped it down. There was nothing wrong with him. He had nothing to be ashamed about. 

After his release, Laurent felt much better, lighter in a way. He didn’t feel as sensitive either as he was able to comfortably change into a sweater and shorts without feeling like he would crawl out of his skin. 

Still running on a high from endorphins, Laurent went downstairs, a little more of a bounce in his step than usual. He spread himself across the couch and stretched out his limbs in a languid sprawl. Settling his linked hands over his stomach, Laurent let himself drift into what he assumed was a post orgasm haze. It felt more like sleepiness to him. But he digressed. He felt strangely proud of himself. He was a little surprised at how easily the fantasy had been conjured. Did he really want that with Damen? Maybe. 

All Laurent knew for certain was that as he drifted into a doze, he wished two particular arms were wrapped around him and for a second heartbeat in his ear.


	7. Boiling Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some realisations.

Laurent was shaken from his doze by the sound of Damen’s return. Blinking away his slumber, Laurent sat up on the couch just as Damen entered. Damen’s gaze was soft as he appraised Laurent, eyes lingering on the exposed expanse of pale long legs. Laurent self-consciously tucked them up against his chest, wrapping his arms around them. 

“Good morning.” Damen said and Laurent rolled his eyes at the darkening sky through the windows. 

“You know your jokes are borderline dad jokes, right? You must know how terrible they are.” Laurent smoothed back his sleep-mussed hair with a haughty look on his face that seemed to only amuse Damen more. 

“Yeah, but sometimes they make you smile.” Damen conceded, falling onto the seat beside Laurent on the couch. Laurent blushed, trying feebly to duck his head to hide it. 

“Rarely.” Laurent muttered. 

“As long as it happens, I’ll keep trying.” It always surprised Laurent when Damen would come out with these things. These earnest words that held no underlying agenda or insincerity whatsoever. Laurent had to work through his immediate reaction which was to believe it to be a lie, or a manipulation of some sort. It was effort for him to take kind words at face value. 

“How was work?” Laurent asked to turn the attention from himself. Damen all too eagerly dived into a story about an obnoxious weightlifter at the gym who had made a complete fool of himself by making animalistic grunting noises during each rep. 

“Every once in a while it seriously sounded like he was having an orgasm.” Damen laughed and Laurent shook his head. 

“He probably thinks everyone in that gym was jealous of him. I don’t know how you kept a professional face up around him. You’re so transparent.” Laurent said. Damen stretched out an arm across the back of the couch, his fingers nearly touching Laurent’s elbow resting on the cushions. The change in position brought them slightly closer, Damen’s body now curled towards Laurent. 

“Transparency has gotten me this far.” Damen remarked, always the optimist. 

“Yes, well, secrecy has gotten me nowhere. So I suppose transparency wins.” Laurent chuckled, fiddling with a loose thread in his sleeve.

“So why don’t you try transparency? If secrecy hasn’t gotten you where you want to be, try the opposite.” Damen shrugged. It was logical, in an overly simplified way. 

“I don’t even know if I know how to be transparent.” Laurent admitted. It was true. He’d long ago learnt to be vague and ambiguous, to talk his way around any subject to ensure his survival. It wasn’t a switch you could just flick off. 

“It’s all about being blunt. Simple words. Clear. No way to read into things or brush over them.” Damen said. 

“I don’t know.” Laurent muttered, crossing his legs. 

“I think...” Damen waited until Laurent caught his eye before continuing in a softer tone. “that there are so many thoughts in your head that never see the light of day. Sometimes I imagine I can see the cogs turning in your mind. Every word you say is deliberate, thought out. I wonder what would come out of your mouth if you threw a wrench in there and jammed up those cogs.” Laurent swallowed, trying to look neutral, when inside his head those cogs were whirring so fast they were producing smoke. 

“That was quite...visual.” Laurent finally said and Damen laughed. 

“See? I bet that was only one of a thousand things you thought just then. And that one was the one you chose why?” Laurent could answer that. It was the least embarrassing and exposing thought that came into his head at that moment. 

“What were the other options? Just tell me one other. Please?” Damen asked, dropping his head onto his outstretched arm. 

“That I didn’t think you knew me that well. Considering how little I’ve actually told you about myself.” Laurent said and Damen smiled, the warm light of the lamp behind Laurent making Damen’s skin glow and his dark eyes glint. Gods, he was beautiful. How could a person with such an intimidating figure have such a warmth to them that shone so incessantly? It was incredible. 

“I know enough about you to know that you like to keep things to yourself. That you find it difficult to talk about yourself also. It’s the why I don’t yet know. What I do know and what I find most confusing, yet endearing about you is the confidence you can conjure...while other times you have this sweetness about you that I can’t seem to ignore.” Damen said and Laurent lost a few beats of breathing. 

Laurent stared at Damen in shock. Already he could feel heat flushing his neck and spreading across his face. Damn his pale skin. Panic began to well up inside him and he tried to force it back down. What was he supposed to say to that? He was utterly lost for words. 

At his long, blank silence, he could see Damen begin to backtrack before he even opened his mouth.  
“Oh God, please tell me I didn’t read this horribly wrong? Shit, I must sound like such a creep. I’m so sorry-“ Damen began to retract his arm from where it lay on the back of the couch, trying to create a distance between them. 

“Don’t.” Laurent said, reaching out to stop Damen from drawing away. He ended up grasping Damen’s fingers and they both stilled. Laurent held onto him so tight if he concentrated he could feel Damen’s pulse. It was nearly as fast as his own. Slowly and cautiously, Damen turned over his hand so that their palms aligned and their hands were fully clasped. Laurent felt his hand tingling all over, the sensation creeping up his arm and dispersing across his chest. Was he having a heart attack? 

“Laurent, relax.” Damen murmured, his thumb drawing circles on the back of Laurent’s hand. He had calluses on the pads of his fingers, Laurent mused to distract himself.

“I’m going to go make a cup of tea.” Laurent said suddenly. Damen blinked at him and let Laurent make a hasty retreat to the kitchen. 

 

In the kitchen, Laurent turned his back to the living room, and pretended to make himself tea. He could feel Damen’s gaze burning into the back of his head. Laurent wondered if Damen would come after him and whether he wanted that or not. He didn’t know. 

Laurent squeezes his eyes shut and took in a shuddering breath. When had his life become so confusing? Why, suddenly, were dormant feelings rushing him all at once? It wasn’t fair. 

Laurent reached up into the cupboard to rifle through tea bags to keep up appearances. He didn’t want tea, he couldn’t even stomach that right now. 

The tea. 

Laurent’s train of thought stuttered to a halt.  
Of course. Of-fucking-course. How could he have been such an ignorant fool? Laurent leant his forehead against the kitchen cupboards. His shoulders began to shake with laughter. The sound that came out of his mouth was a bitter and ugly thing, filled with shame and anger. A fire expanded in his stomach, roiling and burning a path up his throat, making his eyes water. His laughter grew louder, yet more strained, turning quickly into sobs. 

“Laurent?” Damen called out from the living room. Laurent ran his hands through his hair, gripping it tight to try hold himself together. He felt like he was splitting apart at the seams, unravelling into a pile of ribbons. 

“Laurent.” Damen repeated his name, suddenly right in front of him. Damen’s eyes were wide with panic and concern, running over his form in quick darts.  
“What’s going on? Was it something I did?” Damen asked in a rush and Laurent shook his head, his smaller frame trembling all over. 

“No, no. I’m just - God! I’m such an idiot. Of course it was him! Of course!” Laurent yelled, eyes filling with tears. Laurent’s hands covered his face. Damen’s hands were at his shoulders, a barely there touch, too cautious to really be felt. 

“Laurent. I don’t understand whats going on.” 

“My uncle! My manipulative, twisted fuck of an uncle!” Laurent grasped Damen’s arms in a vice, a wild look in his eyes. 

“What? What about him?” Damen asked fervently. 

“It was the tea, Damen! The fucking tea. He put something in it! I don’t know how but he did. That’s why I couldn’t - why this is happening now!” Laurent’s breaths were coming in clipped gasps. He felt dizzy and sick. 

“Okay, okay. Laurent, you have to calm down.” Damen said, slowing his voice into a soothing murmur. Laurent nodded but he couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. 

“I-I can’t.” Laurent gritted out. Damen shook off Laurent’s grip on him and Laurent tried to stutter out an apology for the white crescent marks he’d left on Damen’s biceps, but Damen just shook his head and took both of his hands. 

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Just breathe with me, okay?” Damen said, squeezing Laurent’s fingers. 

“O-okay.”

“Okay, breathe in, try to match me.” Damen breathed in through his nose deeply, watching Laurent carefully as he tried to mimic it. Laurent’s exhale was a lot shakier than Damen’s, but after the fourth or fifth time they synchronised. Laurent’s rhythm was normal, his breaths no longer choppy. They continued like that for what felt like hours but would only have been minutes, until Laurent’s head began to clear enough to notice how close they had become. Damen was still holding his hands and Laurent started to feel that tingling sensation fizzling through his fingers in Damen’s warm clasp. 

“Better?” Damen murmured, his head dropped to catch Laurent’s eye. 

“Yes.” Laurent was embarrassed by how small his voice sounded. 

“How about we get some fresh air?” Damen asked, already leading Laurent out onto the back porch. He kept hold of one of Laurent’s hands as they stepped out into the crisp night. Laurent sucked in the cool air in heavy gulps. His unoccupied hand was already missing the warmth of Damen’s grasp.

For a while they just stood against the railing, staring out into the back garden and into Damen’s neighbour’s house. Laurent was still tense, but Damen’s hand in his was slowly loosening muscles along his neck and shoulders. Now that the adrenaline had washed away, Laurent felt like a wrung towel. His legs were trembling slightly. Laurent hoped he wouldn’t collapse into Damen’s arms like a fainting maiden. 

“Feeling better?” Damen asked, giving his hand a squeeze. If he said yes, would Damen let him go? 

Laurent shrugged. “I’m no longer about to have a panic attack so...” 

“You don’t have to tell me everything about what just happened. Just...tell me if it was something I did.” Damen said, chin dropped down to his chest when Laurent looked over at him. 

“It had nothing to do with you, Damen. I...I figured something out that was very...upsetting.” Laurent’s fingers twitched in Damen’s hold and when Damen’s fingers loosened, Laurent’s tightened. 

“You were yelling about your uncle.” 

Laurent turned away to stare resolutely into the darkness ahead.  
“My uncle was not a good man. He was controlling and manipulative. I was...like his plaything.” Damen didn’t interrupt but gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. It was enough for Laurent to continue.  
“He did abuse me for years.” A sharp gasp came from beside him and Laurent resisted the urge to look at Damen’s expression. 

“He liked control. He found a way to control me even after he was dead.” Laurent said, grinding his teeth.

“The tea?” Damen guessed and Laurent nodded. “I don’t understand. What did it do to you?” 

“It made me...numb. No, thats not the right word. It froze me in a time when I couldn’t...before I could-“ Laurent cut himself off with a frustrated sigh. 

“It’s okay.” Damen said, softly. 

“It’s hard to explain. But when I stopped drinking it, suddenly all these...feelings that I’d never had before slammed into me all at once.”

“What feelings?”

“I used to think it was just how I was. I’d googled asexuality many times to try define myself and the way I felt. But every label felt wrong. I thought it was because of...what he’d done to me. That he’d ruined me for anyone else.” Laurent finally turned and caught Damen’s gaze. His eyes were black in the moonlight, and so earnest, Laurent couldn’t help himself when his other hand reached out to cup his cheek. 

“Then I met you and-“ Laurent cut himself off, feeling overly exposed. Damen’s gaze was searching and his skin felt so hot against Laurent’s hand. 

“So before...you didn’t feel anything like that? Ever? Does that mean-?” Laurent shook his head minutely. 

“I’m not a virgin, Damen. I haven’t been for a very long time.” Damen’s cheeks heated under Laurent’s touch, his expression growing stormy. Laurent tried to take his hand away but Damen covered it with his own, keeping it where it was, the storm in his eyes simmering. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not angry at you. I just-i kind of wish he wasn’t dead so I could kill him.” Damen admitted. 

“I’m afraid you’d have to wait in line behind me.” Laurent said, and they shared an amused smile. Damen closed his eyes, leaning into Laurent’s hand on his cheek. The sight made Laurent’s chest flutter and he tried to keep his face cool. 

“There’s still a lot I don’t understand about this. But I’m hoping I’ll get the chance to find out?” Laurent took an unsteady step forward so he was right in Damen’s space. Something hummed between them in that minuscule space that separated their faces. Anticipation, uneasiness, nervousness and relief. Relief that knew where they finally stood with each other. At least enough to know that whatever was about to happen was mutual, born from desire and affection instead of manipulation or guilt. 

“Laurent.” Damen whispered. His breath puffed across Laurent’s lips and the sensation made him smile ever so slightly. 

“Yes?” Laurent asked, adding a teasing dash of syrup to his voice. 

“What are you doing?” Damen asked, sounding a little breathless. It made Laurent’s heart race knowing he affected Damen this much. 

“I’m waiting for you to kiss me.” Laurent had barely finished speaking before Damen pushed forward to meet his lips. Laurent made a surprised noise in his throat, that dissolved into a sigh as Damen plied his mouth with soft, dragging kisses. Damen’s hands brushed over his shoulders and into his hair, his fingers winding through the silky tresses and cradling the back of his head. 

Laurent felt as if he were on fire. All from a kiss. Damen’s chest up against his, his fingers running over his scalp and the slick slide of their mouths was turning Laurent into a proverbial puddle. When Damen’s tongue tested the waters, darting across Laurent’s upper lip, Laurent’s knees actually buckled. Damen caught him easily with an arm around his waist, dragging him forward to support his weight. Laurent didn’t know where to put his hands. 

For a brief moment he felt quite juvenile. A teenager fumbling through his first kiss. He settled his hands on either side of Damen’s throat. The fluttering of his pulse beneath the thin skin of Damen’s neck excited him. 

“Laurent.” Damen said his name reverently, breaking the kiss to press their foreheads together. Laurent felt out of breath and more than a little aroused. He squirmed slightly, aware of how obvious his reaction would be in his shorts. Cheeks pinking even further, Laurent shied his hips from any contact. 

“Sorry.” Laurent murmured and Damen kissed him chastely before dragging him fully into his embrace. Their hips relocked and Laurent gasped when he felt Damen’s cock straining through his pants. 

“Don’t be sorry.” Damen said, sweeping some hair from Laurent’s face to kiss his forehead. Damen broke the embrace but dropped his hand to link with Laurent’s. 

“I’m still trying to figure out what my new normal is.” Laurent said and Damen nodded in understanding. 

“You’ll get there.” 

 

For the rest of the night their hands didn’t stray far from each other. But it didn’t grow any more heated than a few scattered kisses while watching TV. When Laurent’s head began to droop, Damen kissed the back of his hand and pulled him up from the couch to guide him to bed. When Damen dropped his hand to head for his own room, Laurent quickly recaptured it. At Damen’s inquisitive haze he blushed. 

“Stay with me? I’ve never slept in the same bed with anyone. At least not since I was a kid. Just sleep.” Laurent said and Damen smiled at him. 

 

“Your hands are warm.” Damen mused softly into the dark room. Laurent smirked, his thumb caressing the swell of Damen’s cheek. 

“Did you think me cold-blooded like a snake?” 

“No. More like a marble statue. Like the old Akielon ones you see in museums.” Damen replied, touching Laurent’s plump bottom lip softly before pulling back to take his hand again. They were laid out on Laurent’s bed facing each other. It was intimate, staring into each other’s eyes like this. Laurent resisted the urge to drop his gaze automatically. Instead he traced the lines of Damen’s face with his fingers until he felt his eyes begin to weigh down. Right before he slipped away, Laurent felt a kiss pressed to the tips of his fingers, so soft he would have believed it the beginnings of a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)))))))  
> Sorry that took a bit longer to upload compared to other chapters. I wanted to get this chapter right so I had to let it sit for a while. But yay! Things are finally happening between them 13k+ later haha whoops. I did say I was a sucker for a slow build.


	8. Steam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after their little sleepover.

“Laurent? My arm is asleep.” Damen murmured drowsily, wriggling his arm that was trapped under Laurent’s head. Laurent grumbled, lifting his head so Damen could slip his arm out with a sigh. 

“You’re such a baby.” Laurent murmured. Damen’s other arm curled cautiously around Laurent’s waist, bringing him closer so that his chest was pressed warmly against Laurent’s back. 

“Okay?” Damen asked, his warm breath muffled in Laurent’s sleep-mussed hair. A shiver went down Laurent’s spine and he smiled, stubbornly keeping his eyes closed under the pretence that he would easily go back to sleep. He was still coasting in that heavy limbed stage that came right after waking and he wanted to luxuriate in the feeling for as long as possible.

“I suppose.” Laurent felt Damen smile into his hair. Damen’s fingers splayed across his belly and Laurent made an involuntary noise in the back of his throat. That feeling was back, simmering low in his gut just below where Damen’s hand pressed warmly over his stomach. 

“Damen.” Laurent said, a little bit of tension in his voice that Damen picked up on immediately. 

“Are you okay? Do you want me to move away?” Damen asked, his grip loosening slightly. 

“No, I just...I don’t know how to deal with this. It happens too easily. I’m sorry.” Laurent’s face flamed and he turned his face into the pillow. 

“What? Oh.” Laurent could hear the wide smile in Damen voice. Laurent groaned in mortification, trying to roll forward, away from Damen’s soft laughter. 

“No! I’m sorry. Laurent, I’m sorry I was just surprised. Come back.” Damen laughed through his words, pulling Laurent back towards him. Laurent relented, charmed by Damen’s sleep-roughed laughter curling in his ears. 

Settled back against Damen’s chest, Laurent could feel the stirring in his sleep shorts growing and his breathing started to become more shallow and quick in pace. Damen made a pleased rumble that Laurent felt reverberate through his chest and sent little sparks of pleasure through to Laurent’s stomach. 

“You feel so good against me.” Damen murmured, his lips tracing a feather like trail across Laurent’s nape. Laurent’s fingers curled into the sheets as he suppressed a shiver.  
“Do you know what the first thing I thought when I met you?” Damen continued to press small barely there kisses along Laurent’s skin, pushing down the collar of his shirt to access the join of his neck. 

“Well?” Laurent asked, his impatient tone underhanded by the breathless sound of his voice. 

“I thought you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. And I knew I wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.” Laurent was having a hard time concentrating on what Damen was saying. The delicate tease of his lips against Laurent’s deprived skin was like quenching an undeniable thirst. He wanted more, he wanted that hot press of lips all over him. 

“You could have asked me out. Asking me to move in seems like a few steps ahead.” Laurent said and Damen laughed, curling his arm around Laurent’s chest. He used the tips of his fingers to guide Laurent’s chin sideways so that they could finally meet in a kiss. 

Laurent melted into the embrace, surrendering to Damen’s lips. Turning onto his back, Laurent arched into the kiss. Damen’s large palm cupped his cheek to guide the drag of their mouth into something slow and sweet. Laurent’s toes curled and he grasped Damen’s bicep, marvelling at the girth and restrained strength simmering underneath. 

Damen pulled back and they disconnected with a slick sound that made Laurent’s ears burn. Looking up into Damen’s dark, warm gaze was intense. Laurent wanted to avert his eyes but he pushed himself to keep looking, to catalogue the exact colour of Damen’s iris nearly swallowed by his pupil and the faintest redness showing through his nut coloured cheeks. 

For a while they just lay there, Damen on his side, leaning his head on his propped up elbow to watch Laurent catch his breath. Laurent tangled their fingers together and basked in the easy atmosphere that surrounded them. 

“You know it’s normal right?” Damen finally piped up. Laurent tilted his head in question, a quirk to his eyebrows. “To...wake up like that.” Damen gave a pointed look and Laurent scrunched up his face. 

“I am aware.” Laurent said and Damen shrugged.

“Jus thought I’d say. I’m not all too sure what is happening to you. You said you had to get used to your new normal. But I’m not clear on what was your abnormal.” Damen said and Laurent sighed. It was a fair thing to say. Laurent had yet to divulge every detail. But the truth was that he didn’t know how to explain it. Even in his own head it was all jumbled. 

“Wanting...sex-“ Laurent started. Damen gave an encouraging hum for him to keep going. “Wanting sex was abnormal. Feeling that sort of attraction to someone is new. My body’s reactions to that attraction are also new.” Damen nodded along, absorbing his words intently. 

“So you’ve never slept with anyone before?” Damen asked and Laurent shook his head, averting his gaze to stare down at their entwined fingers. “Have you ever jerked off?” Damen said and Laurent’s eyes widened and he felt as if his whole face was set ablaze by the question. 

“Feel free not to answer.” Damen tacked on when Laurent didn’t immediately reply. Laurent kept his eyes turned away, instead focusing on fiddling with Damen’s thick fingers between his own slender digits. His thoughts were wrenched back to the day previous when he’d been splayed out like a trollop on that very bed, sweat glistening his skin, his hand around his cock and his thoughts solely on Damen. 

“Only once.” Laurent said quietly. “Never before...growing up I didn’t feel the need to.” 

“So this first time was...recently?” Damen prodded, interest obviously piqued. Laurent finally caught his gaze again and was surprised to find Damen looking a little flushed. It took him a moment to realise Damen enjoyed the notion of Laurent pleasuring himself. 

“Yesterday.” Laurent said bluntly, interested in watching Damen’s reaction. Damen nodded, although his pupils dilated further, giving him away. 

“Here?” Damen asked and he sounded as if Laurent had just kissed him senseless. Laurent had a giddy feeling stirring inside him that Damen felt this strongly about him. That the thought of Laurent jerking himself off in his house was making him flush with arousal. 

“Of course.” Feeling a little bold Laurent said. “Would you like to know what I thought of?” 

“Yes.” Was Damen’s immediate reply. Laurent smirked. 

“I’m afraid that’s private information.” Damen groaned at his teasing but he was also smiling. 

“You’re cruel.” Damen nuzzled into his hair and Laurent felt a pulse of affection in his chest. 

 

Eventually they did manage to drag themselves out of bed. It was predominantly the cause of their rumbling stomachs that called them down to the kitchen. Damen insisted on making breakfast, as per usual. Laurent had already given up on fighting him on it. He liked Damen’s cooking too much to really put up much of a fight anymore truly. 

“So I was thinking...” Damen started, sliding eggs onto their plates. “Nikandros is having a party tonight, like a coming home celebration. And I was wondering if you’d want to come. As my date, if you want?” A date? Laurent had never been someone’s date before. Before Laurent could answer Damen continued. 

“The only thing is it’s at Jord’s place. Which means...” Confrontation. Awkwardness, Guilt. All the elements of a good night out. Laurent sighed, weighing up the pros and cons in his head. On one hand, Jord was a subject that caused him not an insignificant amount of stress and heartache. On the other...Damen was currently watching him with wide, hopeful doe eyes. 

“Okay, I’ll go. But make sure Jord knows I’m coming.” Laurent said and Damen brightened visibly. 

“Of course!” Damen grinned at him, pleased and Laurent hid his equally pleased smirk by taking a large bite of food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys for the delay and that this chapter is a bit smaller than previous ones! My workload has nearly doubled recently so updates will be a tad slower but they will 100% not stop. I do not leave unfinished works. Promise.


	9. Spill Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jord and Laurent’s confrontation.

Laurent stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom for half an hour trying to make himself look presentable. No. Not just presentable, but immaculate. Tonight he would be surrounded by strangers and brief acquaintances who would see him and Damen walk in together and immediately start to break Laurent down with their eyes. He couldn’t let them see anything, assume anything. Plus, he had a feeling this Nikandros would not take kindly to him. For Jord or Damen’s sake, it didn’t matter, Laurent already felt unwelcome. 

“You’ve been in there a while, can I come in?” Damen rapped on the door and Laurent let him in with a sigh. Damen appraised him with a warm glint in his eye. Laurent had chosen his best pair of jeans and a rich navy button up that made his hair glow yellow in contrast. Laurent preened a little under the attention, smiling when Damen finally brought his heavy gaze up from Laurent’s legs which looked a mile long in his slim jeans. 

“I’ll never complain about you taking so long if you come out looking like this.” Damen said and Laurent chuckled, stepping into Damen’s space to peck him on the lips. He was still growing accustomed to these short, sweeter displays of affection that had once eluded him. Pulling back, Damen smiled at him in a way that Laurent could only describe as adoring, and used both hands to push his hair behind his ears. 

“You okay?” Damen whispered. His eyes were so big and looming brown above him Laurent felt his shoulders sag. 

“I am nervous.” 

“Nervous? Why? You’re not walking into a room of strangers. Pallas and Lazar will be there.” Laurent nodded. “Is this about Jord?” 

“I’m not sure what it is about. I think it’s everything all at once.” Laurent stepped out of the embrace, shaking himself into a cool, collected version of himself. Damen watched on curiously and Laurent smiled at him close lipped.

“Don’t make me regret saying yes to going.” 

“I can promise I’ll be on my best behaviour. Whatever happens with Jord tonight, just give me a signal and we’re out of there.” Laurent’s smile turned into something more genuine at that. 

“Shall I click my heels together three times?” Laurent drawled, sauntering out of the room with Damen trailing after him. 

 

“I fucking knew it.” Was the boisterous welcome from Lazar when Damen and Laurent stepped in hand in hand. Laurent rolled his eyes dramatically, making Damen laugh beside him. 

“Like it wasn’t your bright idea to begin with.” Laurent said, following Lazar further into the apartment. There were a few other people already mingling in the living room. Pallas he recognised and gave a friendly nod to. There was a female couple that he didn’t recognise but the taller one was eyeing Laurent down with a hawk like gaze and equally predatory smirk. Laurent cast her a cool, unaffected glance which made her smile stretch into a grinch-like line it was almost uncanny. 

“Vannes, stop being a fucking perve. Be a normal human being and say hello.” Lazar sniped humorously, double stepping to keep his balance. It was clear he’d already had a few. Vannes broke away from her girlfriend, Laurent assumed, to come introduce herself. 

“Vannes, you must be Laurent.... and Damen, so nice to see you again.” There was something in the way Vannes looked at Damen when she spoke that made Laurent curious. It wasn’t quite contempt. It wasn’t even an entirely negative vibe. Kind of like an inside joke borne from some acknowledged tension. 

“Yes, I am. Nice to meet you. I’m going to grab a drink, Damen?” Laurent tilted his head back towards the kitchen and they departed, with Vannes smiling knowingly at their backs. 

“Okay, is there something you want to tell me?” Laurent asked once they were out of earshot. Damen turned to him in surprise. 

“How did you know something was up?” Damen asked, a little awed. Laurent rolled his eyes. 

“You forget. Malicious intent, I can sniff out like a hound.” Laurent said, leaning back against the cabinets and crossing his arms over his chest. He gave a small twitch of his chin as if to say ‘well, go on’.

“She’s not evil, Laurent. She just doesn’t particularly like me that much.” Damen shrugged and Laurent narrowed his eyes. People didn’t just dislike someone like Damen for no reason. 

“Why not?” 

“Okay, did you see her girlfriend? The one with the dark hair?” Laurent nodded. “Her names Halvik and a few years ago we slept together only I didn’t know she was with Vannes at the time.” Laurent eyes widened in shock and Damen backtracked. “Apparently they’d had a huge fight and hadn’t talked in weeks but it wasn’t officially over. Now I think Vannes is looking for some way to...even the score?” 

Laurent started laughing and Damen just looked more confused.   
“Are you suggesting she is going to try sleep with me to get back at you?” Damen shrugged one shoulder and Laurent chuffed. 

“Even without all my baggage, that would be out of the question. She kind of lacks something that would make me want to sleep with her.” Laurent cocked his eyebrows suggestively, feeling warm when it cracked a laugh out of Damen. 

“I wasn’t worried. I know how much you want me.” Damen said, a heated undertone in his voice that made Laurent’s heart kick up a beat. 

“Oh really? You seem very confident.” Laurent retorted, coolly. Damen slowly inched closer, giving Laurent plenty of time to slink away if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He waited until Damen was boxing him in against the kitchen counter, dark eyes glittering. 

“I’m confident in the way you react around me. In what touching you makes you feel.” Damen traced the back of his fingers down Laurent cheek and neck, making him shiver at the contact. “I’m confident in making you come, beautifully and freely.” Laurent felt his cheeks growing hotter. It did not escape his notice that he was getting hard in someone else’s kitchen in someone’s else’s apartment with half a dozen people one room away. But with the way Damen was looking at him, he didn’t quite care. 

“Shit, sorry.” Like a slap to the face, Laurent was brought fully back to reality and he turned to stare at Jord who had just walked in on them. Laurent felt his face blaze but he hid it behind his schooled gaze. Damen stepped back with a clearing of his throat. A pregnant pause hung over them which was excruciatingly awkward. 

“I’m going to go find Nikandros.” Damen said, watching Laurent’s reaction carefully. Laurent nodded trying to communicate with his gaze that it was okay for him to be left alone with Jord. When Damen ducked out of the kitchen, Jord looked like he wanted nothing more than to follow him. 

They stood for a moment just looking at each other. Laurent hadn’t really appraised him truly at the cafe. Now he could truly see how he’d changed from a lanky teenager into a man. A change Laurent saw in an accelerated lapse instead of gradual stages. 

“Why did you disappear?” Laurent asked, breaking the silence. Jord’s shoulders went straight up to his ears and his gaze dropped down to his feet.   
“You were like a brother to me, Jord. Did you know that? Did you care?” 

“Of course I cared!” Jord shouted. Laurent crosses his arms over his chest. Jord sighed. 

“I’m sorry, Laurent. I left to go live with my Aunt in Arles.” Why didn’t you take me with you? You left me with my uncle instead. Laurent kept these thoughts to himself. Jord didn’t need that heaped on him, it wasn’t fair. Jord hardly knew his uncle. 

“You couldn’t even look at me that day.” The funeral. The wake in Laurent’s childhood home. 

“I couldn’t. I felt so guilty. Every time I looked at you I saw him. I thought you looked alike back then....it’s nothing compared to now.” Jord shook his head, hurt blaring in his eyes. 

“Spooky, isn’t it?” Laurent said. “I avoided mirrors for months after Auguste died because of it.” Jord’s mouth dropped open in shock at the admission. 

“I don’t blame you, Jord. I never did and I never will.” 

“I should have been in the car with him. Maybe if I was there I would have been able to warn him somehow.” Jord grew slightly manic and tears pooled but didn’t spill over. 

“More likely you both would have died. What a waste that would have been.” Laurent said and Jord was stunned into an uneasy silence. 

“Do you want me to forgive you, Jord?” Laurent asked and the open expression on Jord’s face gave his answer. 

“Well I forgive you for being a normal teenager getting too drunk at a party. I forgive you for disappearing on me. I’ll forgive it all if you promise me one thing?” Jord watched him expectantly. Laurent dropped his crossed arms, hoping to appear less hostile so Jord would believe what he was saying.   
“Promise me you won’t disappear again.” 

Jord’s face broke into a relieved smile and he nodded fervently. Laurent nodded swiftly in response, slipping out of the kitchen and heading straight for the bathroom to compose himself. 

 

Laurent washed his face with ice cold water, forcing himself to breath deeply. For so long he’d been an expert in squashing his emotions into a tiny ball and pushing it far down inside himself. He hadn’t cried since Auguste’s funeral. But now, reflecting on the missed years of brotherly friendship he and Jord could have had, was churning old feelings about Auguste and the plethora of missed opportunities and moments. 

And it broke him. 

Laurent bit into the meat of his hand to stop any sound from coming out as tears burst through and streamed hotly down his cheeks. This was neither the place nor the time for this, Laurent scolded himself. He could only imagine the humiliation if one of the other guests happened to pass by to hear his sobs. 

But it was hard to stop once he’d started. There was so much stamped down that even a crack could spill a torrent. Laurent bit down on his hand until it felt bruised, diverting his attention enough to collect himself. 

A knock at the door startled him so badly he nearly fell off his perch on the bathtub rim. Laurent stayed deathly silent, hoping whoever it was would try the door handle then move on.

“Laurent? Are you in there? Jord said you ran in here. Are you okay?” Damen’s concerned voice filtered through the door and Laurent sagged in relief.   
“Laurent?” Damen called again. Laurent didn’t trust the steadiness of his voice to reply. Instead he opened the door to a crack wide enough for Damen’s bulk to slip in before swiftly locking it behind him. 

“Oh, Laurent.” Damen whispered and Laurent dropped his gaze. Dry warm palms cupped his cheeks, thumbing away the tracks on his skin. Laurent let out a shuddering breath.

“I’m the life of the party aren’t I?” Laurent chuffed weakly. 

“Did it really go so terribly with Jord?” Damen asked and Laurent shook his head. 

“No, it went okay. We both said what we needed to it’s just...it’s just me. He didn’t do anything.” Damen kissed his forehead sweetly. It was a gesture that stunned Laurent into silence. Damen caught his expression and smiled softly, pulling Laurent into a tight embrace. 

They stayed like that, locked in each other’s arms for long drawn out minutes which sucked the tension straight from  
Laurent and melted him against Damen’s front. 

“Aren’t people going to wonder where we’ve disappeared to?” Laurent murmured into Damen’s shoulder. 

“We’ll stay in here until you want to go back out. The longer we’re in here the more likely people are to believe Lazar when he ultimately claims we’ve snuck off to have sex somewhere.” Damen said and Laurent chuckled, tilting his head up so Damen could kiss him. 

“The more you kiss me the more believable it will be.” Laurent said and Damen hummed, the vibration bouncing between their chests. 

“Maybe I should tear a few buttons in your shirt for appearances sake.” Damen grinned and Laurent rolled his eyes, grasping his face to kiss him again.


	10. Heat Up

When they did eventually slip back into the fold of the party, it was almost seamless. Once Laurent had cleaned his face and the redness in his nose and cheeks faded he stuck his head out into the hallway before grasping Damen’s arm to quickly tug them out before anyone saw their hasty escape. 

Laurent quickly pulled them into the living room and into a cluster of people including Lazar and Pallas who grinned at them. Damen was right then. 

The rest of the evening passed by without incident. He and Jord didn’t try to converse again directly, but were often included in the same group conversations. Nikandros Laurent had finally formally met and just as he had suspected, Nikandros would need time to warm to him, if he ever could. Laurent didn’t blame him. The amount of hurt Laurent had cause his boyfriend would inspire contempt. Perhaps if Jord and Laurent could eventually mend their relationship, Nikandros would would see him in a different light. 

Nikandros stayed by Jord’s side throughout the night, one arm curled protectively around his waist. Funnily enough, Damen did the same thing. As the party wound down and the small crowd grew thinner, Laurent rested his head on Damen shoulder, a signal for his readiness to leave. Laurent was a die hard introvert. He liked interacting and lived for debate and complex conversation but to a point. Now he’d reached that point where he no longer felt like being ‘on’ and just wanted to spend the rest of the night curled around Damen with no expectations. 

Damen’s hand carded through Laurent’s hair, tilting his head to peer down at Laurent’s drooping eyes.   
“Ready to go?” Laurent nodded without moving the position of his head. 

 

Laurent clung to Damen loosely as he was led upstairs into Damen’s room without a thought. Laurent sat in the edge of Damen’s bed, smiling softly as Damen started undressing. 

“What are you smiling at?” Damen asked, slipping out of his jeans. Laurent leant back on his hands, the drowsy tilt to his chin and the sleepy stretch of his smile coming across as more than vaguely interested. Damen’s thick dark eyebrows quirked in amusement, slowly stepping between Laurent’s knees. 

“I’m smiling at you. Am I not allowed to do that?” Laurent asked, a little bit of cheek to his tone. Damen leant forward to kiss him, forcing Laurent to arch up to reach him. Laurent felt languorous, his limbs heavy from fatigue. He felt calm. With Damen standing over him, now only clad in his boxers, Laurent usually would have been stressing on the inside. But tonight, after everything, he knew he could wholeheartedly trust Damen to know how far to push and when to draw back. 

“Can I tell you something, a hundred percent honesty?” Damen asked, kissing along Laurent’s jaw. Laurent hummed questioningly, turning into the press of lips eagerly.   
“I really, truly want to see you completely naked.” Laurent mulled it over in his head a moment. He had not truly been naked in front of another person since puberty. He didn’t know how he’d feel about being that exposed in front of someone. 

“Well? Undress me then?” Laurent smiled at the happy moan Damen pressed into his neck

“Are you sure?” Damen asked. Laurent leaned back, starting to unbutton his shirt. Damen hastily took over, stripping the shirt off Laurent’s shoulders. Laurent sucked in a short breath and watched as Damen sunk slowly to his knees. Laurent was panting already and unconsciously he let his legs fall open to make room for the breadth of Damen’s shoulders. Even kneeling Damen’s height advantage brought his face at level with Laurent’s rib cage. Damen looked up at him through dark lashes, a heaviness to his gaze that made Laurent feel weak. 

“You’re so beautiful, Laurent.” Damen breathed, placing a kiss on the soft skin of his belly, feeling it twitch beneath his lips. Laurent was thrown back to his first fantasy of Damen between his legs, pleasuring him with his mouth. Reality was so close. Damen’s lips were pressing kisses across his abdomen, not far from where he was bulging against the zip of his jeans. Like a the crash of a wall of water over him, Laurent realised that he wanted this. He wanted the fantasy to be real. He wanted to know what it would feel like, how Damen could make him feel. 

“What are you thinking?” Damen asked, watching his expression closely. Laurent swallowed, unable to voice his desires plainly. It stayed on the tip of his tongue. He opened his mouth to try put into words what he was feeling but failed, leaving him staring down at Damen with slack lips and a furrowed brow. 

Damen grinned up at him, chuckling lightly. Damen ran his broad hands up Laurent’s legs to cup the sides of his hips.   
“Don’t think so hard about it. Do you want to know what I’m thinking?” Laurent smoothed out his expression, cheeks pinking. 

“I expect something salacious.” Laurent snarked and delighted in the soft sound of Damen’s laughter in the quiet room. 

“I was thinking about what noises you would make if I sucked your cock.” Damen said bluntly and Laurent’s heart tripped into double speed so swiftly it made him dizzy. Laurent could feel the warmth in his face and Damen’s eager gaze was only intensifying the coiling feeling in his gut. 

“How does that sound to you?” Damen asked cheekily, squeezing Laurent’s hips. Laurent held back his pathetic moan and pulled the shutters over his expression. 

“It sounds...adequate.” Damen threw his head back and gave a bellyful laugh that startled Laurent for a moment before he felt his lips stretch into a smile. 

“Adequate? We’ll see.” Damen said, unbuttoning Laurent’s jeans and shucking them off his legs. Laurent laughed at the mildly petulant tone. 

Damen set to work kissing a line up the inside of his thigh, his hands guiding Laurent’s legs to part obscenely wide. Laurent’s laughter died in his throat as embarrassment over the state of himself took over. He was achingly hard, pushing against his dark grey boxer briefs, a wet spot forming where the tip of his cock pressed. Shame burned in his chest. 

Damen, oblivious to the confliction winding up Laurent’s mind, sucked a beautiful reddish bruise to the sensitive inside of Laurent’s pale thigh. Laurent squirmed at the dual mix of pleasure and slight pain that sent a thrill through him inexplicably. 

Damen hooked his fingers into the band of Laurent’s briefs and waited there, fingers stroking over the warm skin beneath. Laurent exhaled shakily. Damen was giving him a way out. He could push Damen’s hands away, draw him up onto the bed where they could kiss until they fell asleep. But that’s not what he wanted. Although the sight of his own arousal made him slightly uncomfortable, it became obvious to him very quickly that Damen was not opposed to it. In fact, by the way Damen was staring at him, Laurent could feel the want rolling off him is heady intoxicating waves. 

“Are you waiting for something?” Laurent panted and Damen gave him a truly wicked grin and pulled down the waistband over his knees and out of sight. 

The first press of lips against the hot skin of his cock made Laurent twitch. Damen took it in stride, trailing soft kisses up the length of him to slip the head into his wet mouth. Laurent bit down hard on his bottom lips to keep the whimpers behind his teeth. Damen dipped the tip of his tongue like a hot prod into the slit and Laurent yelped. Damen took this as encouragement to slide the his tongue over the top of Laurent cock in a circular glide that was turning Laurent’s spine to rubber.

“Mother of-“ Laurent moaned as Damen swallowed him down. Sparks bloomed across his vision and the muscles in his thighs clenched. Pleasure overwhelmed him. It rushed over him in waves, a tight feeling in his gut and his heart fluttering. 

Damen peaked up at him through his lashes, lips obscenely stretched around the length of him. Laurent couldn’t take it. It was too much. The sight of Damen, deep in his own pleasure brought on by his intent to bring Laurent to orgasm. The sound of Damen’s mouth working him steadily. The feeling of wet, scorching suction at his most sensitive spots. It was all adding up, building to an intense precipice. 

“Damen.” Laurent gasped, threading his fingers through Damen’s thick curls and trying to push his head back. Damen pulled back immediately but stayed close. Laurent panted,letting out a small whine at the sudden loss of sensation. 

“Laurent? What’s wrong?” Damen asked. Laurent noted how raspy his voice sounded and unwittingly his cock twitched knowing it was the cause. 

“Nothing. I just...I was going to and I didn’t want to spring that on you.” Laurent stumbled slightly over his words and Damen grinned at him. 

“That’s what I was hoping for, Laurent.” Damen said slowly and Laurent blinked in surprise. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I was waiting for you to come.” Damen said, amusement curling his voice. 

“In...” 

“My mouth. Yes, that was the idea.” Damen chuckled, kissing along Laurent’s thigh. “Is that okay with you?” 

“Um...yes.” Laurent said, arousal coiling hotly as Damen drew closer to his cock again. Damen gave him a cheeky wink that normally would have made Laurent fake a scowl, but instead Damen sucked him back into his mouth and Laurent retort dissolved into a pitiful whimper. 

He was too strung tight to last very much longer. He’d been hovering on the edge, feeling the early pulses, for what felt like hours. Between one breath and the next he gave himself over to it, easily, breathlessly. Pressure, bright and white hot exploded inside him and he cried out, his spine arching forward and away from the source, conflicted in his desire for more or an end to the overwhelming sensation. This wasn’t like before. This didn’t compare to his own clumsy hand or even Damen’s large palm caressing him to completion. 

There wasn’t anything calm about this release. This felt like years of build up, of denial and restraint roaring through broken flood gates. As Laurent collapsed back into the bed, arms loosely akimbo above his head, his first coherent thought was that he would probably not survive the first time Damen would actually fuck him. 

Laurent started to laugh at his own thought and Damen joined him, although he didn’t understand the reason for Laurent’s shuddering chest, he still took pleasure in the sweet smile on his face. 

Laurent reached up with his noodle arms to cup Damen’s proud beaming face in his hands.   
“Adequate?” Damen asked and Laurent laughed harder, overcome with warmth that was blooming and unfurling in his chest when he looked up at Damen. 

“I fear I have been left immobile.” Laurent said and Damen kissed him softly. Laurent couldn’t taste himself on his lips, but he was aware of it wholly and was surprised to find he didn’t mind it at all. 

“That’s quite a review. I’ll have to add you to my references.” Damen snarked and Laurent hit him playfully on the shoulder, nudging him until he fell to his side with a soft ‘oof’. 

Now that Laurent had recovered from his release, the exhaustion he felt earlier in the night started creeping up again. Laurent fought it back, Damen was still hard in his briefs, waiting. Laurent curled forward kissing Damen on the pronounced ball of his shoulder.

“You’re about to fall asleep on my shoulder.” Damen chuckled and wrapped his arm around Laurent’s waist. Laurent groaned, tucking his face into the hollow of Damen’s neck. He could feel Damen still hard pressed against his hip. 

“But you’re still hard.” Laurent grumbled. 

“So what?” Damen laughed and Laurent stubbornly reached between them and cupped Damen through his briefs. He marvelled at how hot he felt even through the material between them. 

“Laurent you don’t have to-“

“Damen?” Laurent interrupted. “Shut up for a minute, okay?” Laurent snuck his hand beneath the waistband and gripped Damen tightly around the base of his cock. 

“Jesus.” Damen moaned in surprise and Laurent grinned into his neck. The angle was a little awkward but Laurent was determined. They stayed pressed close together, legs tangled while Laurent worked Damen’s length slowly. He didn’t have the energy to go much faster, but by the deep rumbling noise Damen was making into his hair, Laurent assumed he was doing okay. 

“Laurent I’m-“ Damen gasped. 

“Yes.” Laurent encouraged, sliding the tip of his thumb over the slit. Damen twitched, spilling hotly into Laurent’s hand with a groan. Laurent smiled into his skin.


	11. Soothe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s taken me forever to update! I promise I’m not abandoning this fic so close to the end! Uni has just been mental for the past few weeks.

One more day.   
One more day of living off of others, of selfishly relying on the charity of his friends and especially Damen. Damen who said numerous times that Laurent was not a trouble or a burden in house. 

“Laurent, you’re an amazing roommate. You clean, you help cook and-“

“And I don’t pay rent.” Laurent insisted, curling his fingers over Damen’s chest. He was seated in Damen’s lap, who was reclined back in bed, his hair mussed from sleep and his chest bare. He looked gorgeous like this, Laurent noted. The early morning sunshine made his skin glow like the shell of a macadamia and his eyes which in dim light looked almost black, instead shimmered with spots of rich amber and tawny brown. It was a Sunday morning, no class and Damen’s first PT session wasn’t until mid afternoon. Taking advantage, they’d lazed about in bed for nearly an hour, talking and frequently getting sidetracked by kissing. 

“I don’t pay rent either! Nik won’t pay rent when he moves in.” Damen insisted. 

“Come stay with me for a while. Once I get my home back. You can come mooch off me instead.” Laurent said and Damen perked up, jostling Laurent in his seat. 

“Really?” Damen asked, a tone of awe in his voice. 

“I’m going to need help moving things out once I decide where I’m going to live permanently.” Laurent said softly, avoiding Damen’s gaze which was bursting with warmth and affection. Damen curled a strand of Laurent’s hair around his pointer finger.

“You’re not staying in Delpha?” Damen asked. 

“No, I mean. I’ll stay there for a few weeks to get things in order. Sell off the horses, if they’re still there being taken care of. Organise a caretaker to fill in.” Laurent shifted his position. 

“Horses? How much are you worth? Jesus.” Damen chuckled. 

“I can definitely pay you back some grocery money.” Laurent grinned and Damen laughed harder, wrapping his arms around Laurent to drag him closer. 

 

The next morning Laurent woke with the sun. By the time Damen began to stir, Laurent had already showered, eaten and packed up his car. He wasn’t eager to leave Damen’s place. But he was eager to return home. 

“How long have you been up?” Damen murmured sleepily, stumbling down the stairs in his sweats. Laurent poured Damen a cup of coffee and slid it across the kitchen counter. He was dressed impeccably. Guion was to meet him at the estate to hand over the keys. There were a few more dotted lines to sign before everything was transferred over. Laurent in his anxious bustling around that morning had given extra attention to his appearance, braiding his hair into two intersected rows. From the way Damen’s gaze hadn’t strayed from them, Laurent took a stab in the dark to say that he might style his hair this way more often. 

“You look slightly terrifying.” Damen said, taking a sip of his coffee, mirth in his eyes. Laurent preened. 

“Good. Get ready, we’re leaving in fifteen.” Laurent said, purposefully cold just to see Damen smile. 

 

Guion looked like he’d swallowed a handful of sour grapes when Laurent pulled up towards the gates. Laurent couldn’t hide the little smirk on his face either. Once Laurent had signed the right papers, he could say goodbye to Guion for good. 

“Woah. He does not like you.” Damen murmured as they got out of the car. Laurent grinned toothily.

“He doesn’t have to like me because I don’t like him.” Laurent said. “Guion! Good morning.” 

“Sign here please.” Guion said, handing him over a clipboard. Laurent accepted it and grinned at the hesitant sweeping gaze Guion gave Damen who slipped into the space next to Laurent, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Not one for the customer service anymore, Guion?” Laurent skimmed over the paperwork. 

“Just sign, Laurent.” Guion gritted out through his teeth.

“Easy now.” Laurent murmured, signing his name with a flourish. 

“Or what? You’ll sick this gorilla on me?” Guion pointed his chin towards Damen with a contemptuous sneer. Laurent bristled, setting his cool stare on Guion. 

“Careful, Guion. You forget the things I know.” Laurent watched Guion clench all over. Guion opened his mouth and Laurent grinned, shoving the clipboard into his chest. 

“Brilliant! We’re on the same page. Keys please.” Laurent held out his hand. Guion paused, holding the keys tightly in one hand until his knuckles turned white. Laurent waited patiently for Guion to weigh up his options before he ultimately gave in and handed him the keys. 

“Goodbye, Guion.” Laurent simpered, taking Damen’s hand and leading him to the padlocked gate. Behind them they heard the sound of gravel against tires as Guion pulled out of the entryway. Laurent felt his heart triple beat when he slid the key into the padlock and heard it click. Home. 

 

Laurent’s family estate was a sprawling nineteenth century manor built on the banks of a river with over four acres of land surrounding it. Driving up to the circular driveway, Laurent was in awe of how unchanged the facade and gardens were after all these years. 

“Laurent, this place is incredible.” Damen said, cheek pressed to the passenger window. Laurent barely heard him over the pounding of his heart in his ears. 

Laurent stepped out of the car, energy humming inside him. He didn’t know what to do. Faced with everything he ever wanted he didn’t know where to start. 

“Laurent? Are you okay?” Damen came up beside him and took his hand, linking their fingers. It startled Laurent out of his trance and he smiled. 

“There something I have to check first.” Laurent said, setting off in a fast walk around the back of the house, dragging a confused Damen in his wake. 

“Laurent what are you-“ 

“Just wait.” Laurent panted, eyes bright. 

 

Laurent dragged Damen into the stables, his head frantically turning.   
“Can I help you?” Someone asked behind them. An elderly man with dirty calloused hands and a gentle demeanour came out of one of the stables. 

“How many horses are left?” Laurent replied, breathless. The man paused, appraising the two of them. 

“You’re the young man inheriting this place, aren’t you?” The man commented and Laurent nodded. 

“They’re all gone aren’t they?” Laurent asked, trying to keep his voice steady. 

“No, no, we’ve got an older mare. Although she acts like a pony.” The man chuckled warmly and Laurent’s chest tightened and his heart jumped up to his throat. 

“Buttercup?” Laurent dared to hope. “The palomino?” 

“Sure is. She’s out in the paddock round back with her boys.” The stableman nodded. Laurent swallowed back all that he was feeling. He couldn’t believe she was still here. Buttercup was his pride and joy in his early teens. Auguste had teamed up with his mother to find her as a surprise for his birthday. She was the only real thing he had left of them.   
Hold on. 

“Boys?” Laurent backtracked. 

“Few years back I brought in a stud. She had two calfs. They’re all grown up now. Would you like to see them?” Laurent gripped Damen’s hand in a vice. 

“Yes.” 

 

Laurent only dropped Damen’s hand to jump the fence to the paddock. By the river’s bank three glossy palominos grazed. Laurent slowed his eager pace as to not startle the creatures. Damen stayed back, watching on as Laurent clicked his tongue and one of the horses turned its head. 

“Hey, girl. Remember me?” Laurent’s voice dipped down to a soft, sweet pitch that the palomino seemed to take to. 

“Is that her?” Damen asked in a far off voice. Laurent nodded without turning around. 

“Buttercup.” Laurent whispered. He stepped closer and stroked the flank of the old mare, delighting in the huff Buttercup gave. Confident she had already warmed to him, Laurent pet the space between her wide brown eyes and burst into joyous laughter as the horse mouthed at his open hand searching for a treat. 

“Sorry, girl. No carrots.” Laurent was embarrassed that he was getting choked up so he rested his forehead on Buttercup’s pale mane. 

“And who are these two beautiful boys?” Damen asked, suddenly at Laurent’s side, stroking the glossy smooth back of one of the other horses. Laurent stepped back from Buttercup, but kept a hand on her neck, unwilling to let go of her just yet. 

“They’re yours?” Laurent said to Buttercup, grinning broadly. Buttercup thrashed her head in answer and Damen laughed. 

“They’re beautiful.” Laurent let one of them sniff at his hand for treats. They both looked like Buttercup when she was young, back when Laurent first started to ride her. He’d missed riding. Buttercup was probably too old to take his weight anymore. She looked strong and healthy, but Laurent was too afraid to strain her in her fragile age. But the other two, perhaps he could train them. Maybe he could convince Damen to let him train him too. Laurent chuckled at the thought of Damen’s hulking mass trying to delicately steer a horse. 

“Do you think you could leave her for a moment to give me a tour? I’m desperate to see your old bedroom.” Damen’s eyes glittered with mischief.

 

Laurent gave Damen a tour through the main house. As they went, they pulled the sheets from the furniture, paintings and mirrors. 

“My mother painted that.” Laurent stopped in front of the sitting room mantle. Above them was a large painting of a garden scene, brightly coloured and full of movement. 

“It’s beautiful. She was really talented.” Damen commented and Laurent nodded. 

“That’s me and Auguste. She painted this when I was about six?” Laurent pointed to the out of focus child like figures in the background, who seemed to be playing by the river. 

“I wish I could have met them.” Laurent turned towards him with large, crystalline eyes. “Your family.” Damen added. 

Laurent took both of Damen’s hands in his own, marvelling at the contrast in both size and tone. He took a deep, shuddering breath.   
“They would have adored you.” Damen grinned and Laurent rolled his eyes.   
“My father would have hated you at first, of course.” 

“Of course.” Damen chuckled. “A big Akielon coming into a preppy Veretian house.”

“Preppy?” Laurent exclaimed, pushing Damen back in mock offence. 

“You’re bath towels are embossed, Laurent.” Damen teased.

“Shut up.” Laurent eloquently retorted. 

 

That night they lay out on the patio couch they’d pulled back outside from the storage room. The back porch overlooked the far off trickling river that, once the sun set, was merely a continuous flickering reflection of the expanse of stars above. They’d spent the afternoon making the house liveable again: stocking the kitchen, hooking up the old television, finding the linen cupboard and making up Laurent’s old room for them. Some rooms they let be, his parents room, Auguste’s. Laurent didn’t want to disturb them just yet. 

After the days work and the resurgence of emotions as they picked apart his childhood essentially, Laurent was exhausted. Yet he could not get his mind to stop working, just for a moment long enough to allow him to drift off against Damen’s shoulder. 

“I can hear you getting frustrated.” Damen commented, the tune of his voice indicating the small smile he had on his face. Laurent grumbled, turning his face into Damen’s neck and letting out a world weary sigh. 

“I want to sleep.” 

“But you can’t.”

“Unfortunately not.” Laurent murmured. 

“I think I have a remedy for that. If you’ll let me try.” Damen’s tone was slightly teasing but earnest enough for Laurent to realise his offer was to be taken seriously. 

“A remedy?” Laurent probed further, cheeks heating at the onslaught on images Damen’s choice of words had elicited. 

“Is that an affirmative?” Damen asked. 

“I’m too curious to say no.”


	12. Settle

Even with all the time they had spent together, in the same house, in the same bed, Laurent still felt a small trickle of nervousness as Damen led him to the bedroom they’d made up. It reminded him still how inexperienced he was. But even if Damen stayed with him for years to come, Laurent hoped this feeling never diminished. It was thrilling. 

It was bizarre to step back into his childhood bedroom. It didn’t look the same, his books were gone and the pictures he used to paint of Buttercup when he’d first been gifted her were gone. There used to be a picture of Auguste, himself and their mother on his bedside table that was now bare. Maybe if he dug deep enough through the boxes in the attic space he’d find it again. 

“Are you alright?” Damen asked, his thumb rubbing back and forth across Laurent knuckles. 

“Yes, just lost in thought.” Laurent reassured, squeezing Damen’s hand.

“We can just go to sleep, if you want?” Damen sat on the edge of the bed and Laurent stepped between his spread knees, hands falling to his shoulders. 

“I want...” Laurent trailed off with a sigh. He threaded his fingers through Damen’s curls because he knew how much he liked it. Sure enough Damen let out a small breath, his eyes falling closed briefly. 

“Tell me, Laurent. Anything, I’ll give you anything.” Damen said softly, dark eyes blinking open and Laurent bit down on his bottom lip before sliding into Damen’s lap. 

“I want you to fuck me.” Laurent whispered into the scant space between them. Damen sucked a sharp breath between his teeth and pushed forward to kiss Laurent. Laurent melted into the embrace, deciding that it was best to just fall into it headfirst, let Damen hold the reigns. Laurent was smart enough to know that he would be foolish to pretend to know what action to take. Some of it was instinctual, he knew this, but to make this good, to make this memorable, Laurent was going to leave himself in Damen’s hands. A thought that not long ago would have terrified him. 

Their kiss deepened and Damen fell back onto the mattress, drawing Laurent with him with a large hand pressed to the small of his back. Laurent always felt unbelievably small beneath Damen’s hands. He was not a petite person. He was five foot ten with broad shoulders and long lithe legs. Damen was just abnormally large. 

“You’re a behemoth.” Laurent murmured into Damen’s lips and felt his mouth stretch into a smile in response. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it just a little.” Damen growled, using his arms to roll them both over so that he pressed Laurent down into the mattress, firmly between his spread legs. Laurent made a flustered noise that turned into a moan as Damen pressed their hips back together, their hard cocks rubbing sensuously. 

They quickly stripped themselves on their clothes before folding around each other again. Laurent thought he’d be used to the feeling of Damen’s naked skin against his own. But he wasn’t. Damen was all hot, soft skin and dark hair. 

“You’re very...attractive.” Laurent said and immediately flushed through to the top of his chest while Damen chuckled softly. 

“You’re so sweet, aren’t you?” Damen murmured, kissing Laurent softly across his collarbones and his neck. Laurent felt himself sink deeper into the plushness of the covers as he was plied with wet, open-mouthed kisses, rendering him a quaking mess. 

“Don’t tease me, Damianos.” Laurent whispered, brows furrowed. Damen pushed himself up in his hands, his dark curls haloing his flushed face. Laurent cupped his jaw in his hands, feeling Damen’s cheeks stretch beneath his palm as he grinned. 

“You’re so unbelievably beautiful.” Damen whispered earnestly. Laurent pressed his thumb to Damen’s lips, silencing him before he said anything else that would make Laurent flush harder. 

“Damen.” Laurent urged, hips jolting up in desperation. Damen kissed his thumb before sliding down Laurent’s body until his face was level with Laurent’s cock. Laurent’s chest puffed up as he held his breath in anticipation. But he let it all release in a rush when Damen instead pushed Laurent’s thigh up until the back of his knee hooked over Damen’s shoulder. Laurent shuddered at the scorching kiss he left on the hollow at the join of his thigh. He would bruise so easily there and he knew Damen knew that. 

“You’re going to drag this out, aren’t you?” Laurent breathed out, his voice sounding petulant to his own ears. Damen smiled against his skin. 

“The word you’re looking for is savour, sweetheart. I’m savouring this.” Laurent dropped back with a huff to hide his pleased flush. 

Damen looked adequately abashed when he produced a tube of lube from his duffel bag. Laurent arched one eyebrow but couldn’t exactly complain, especially when Damen warmed some on the tips of his fingers and brought them to that space between his legs. Laurent tensed on instinct but Damen’s eyes flickered up to meet his in alarm and Laurent forced himself to relax. 

“Okay.” Laurent said, mostly to himself. Damen’s fingers pushed deep inside of him and Laurent couldn’t repress the soft sound that gathered in the back of his throat. Damen rested his cheek on the inside of Laurent’s propped up knee and set his gaze flitting between Laurent’s tipped chin and his stretched hole. 

“You’ve stopped moving.” Laurent grumbled after a long pause. He pushed himself up onto his elbows. 

“I was just...waiting.” Damen said quietly and Laurent cocked a brow. 

“Waiting for what exactly?” Laurent asked and Damen’s cheeks grew hot against his leg. 

“Um” Damen cleared his throat. “For you to loosen up a bit.” Laurent’s mouth dropped into an ‘o’ and his already red cheeks deepened. 

“I see. Carry on I suppose. I’ll...try to help.” Damen chuckled softly at the strained undertone of Laurent’s voice and kissed the inside of his knee as he curled his fingers up and Laurent jerked. 

“Better?” Damen asked, smugly and Laurent whacked him on the shoulder. 

“Shut up and keep doing that.” Laurent said, already dangerously close to coming. It was all still so new. He couldn’t help it. Damen twisted and drummed his fingers against that spot inside of him that felt like he was squeezing his cock with a tight fist without even touching him. 

“Damen-I” Laurent gasped, digging his fingers into Damen’s shoulders. Damen’s gaze shot up to meet his, wide and shocked as Laurent’s eyes scrunched shut and he came with a sharp cry. Damen watched on with a growing amazed grin. 

“Well.” Damen said and Laurent glared down at him, his chest heaving. 

“Don’t even by smug about this.” Laurent wiped the sweat gathering on his top lip with the back of his hand. 

“I’m not smug. I’m impressed.” Damen said brightly. Laurent huffed a laugh which caused him to clench around Damen’s fingers that were still knuckle deep in him. They caught each other’s gazes and Damen grinned, slowly pulling his fingers halfway out before plunging then back it, making Laurent drop his head back. “Do you think you’ve got another one in you?” 

“I think I’ve got a few.” Laurent smirked.

“A few?” Damen laughed, pulling out completely to crawl up between his legs. Laurent pulled Damen down so that they were pressed fully together, scorching skin against scorching skin, to kiss him. Damen gave an appreciative moan against his lips and ground down against him. Laurent felt how hard he was rubbing against his hip and he felt a little light headed with it. 

He still could not believe that this was happening. That someone like Damen could see him in that way. That Laurent could affect someone so strongly. It was a powerful feeling.

 

With gentle hands Damen turned Laurent onto his side, guiding him to bend his knee and tilt forward. Laurent hid his face in the pillow as the position left him completely exposed. Damen shuffled forward to press against his back and Laurent felt Damen’s cock brush against him and he unconsciously arched his back. Damen tumbled against his shoulder, tucking Laurent’s hair behind his ear so he could see his face more clearly. 

“Do you still want this?” Damen asked. God yes, Laurent immediately thought. Fire was burning brighter inside him with every touch. He didn’t just want it, he needed it. 

“Take me, Damianos.” Laurent said and Damen groaned, making them both laugh. 

“You can’t say stuff like that and expect me to last.” Damen replied and Laurent smiled, tilting his head back for a kiss. Damen readily complied and with one hand guided his cock over Laurent’s slick hole. With a slow push Damen breached him, not stopping until his hips cupped Laurent’s ass. Laurent breathed out heavily, breaking the kiss. 

“Fucking hell.” Damen gasped into Laurent’s damp hair. Laurent was too overcome by sensation to even reply. He thought he was prepared for this. He thought he could imagine what it would feel like but this was different. This was mind-numbing, thought-stealing, breathtaking pleasure that Laurent had never experienced before. When Damen’s hips twitched Laurent moaned. 

Damen picked up on the obvious clue and pulled halfway out before slowly, slowly pushing back in. The slow drag was delicious torture and Laurent trembled, closing his fist in the sheets. 

“You like it slow?” Damen asked, a little awed and already slightly out of breath. 

“Apparently so.” Laurent murmured. Damen kisses the ball of his shoulder sweetly and began a steady pace of pull and push that somehow felt deeper each thrust. Laurent thought he might so insane. How could it feel like this? Is it like this for everyone? 

“Never like this.” Damen sighed into his hair and Laurent realised he was thinking aloud. But he was beyond caring or feeling embarrassed. His second orgasm was looming and by the way it coiled and clenched inside him, when it came it would surely break him. But he was desperate for it all the same. 

Damen’s pressed his hand over Laurent’s heart, no doubt feeling the way it thundered under his palm. Laurent choked on a gasp when Damen’s fingers rubbed over his peaked nipples. 

“Shit.” Laurent sucked a breath between his teeth as Damen’s rough calloused thumb drew circles across the hard nubs. 

“Laurent, I’m not going to last much longer.” Damen shuddered, tipping his face into Laurent’s neck, puffing warm damp breaths against his skin. Laurent reached behind him to grasp Damen’s curls in his long fingers and tugged. Damen’s hips snapped forward and Laurent was coming before he knew what was happening. It pulled through him in violent shocks and shudders, making Laurent clench and tighten his fist in Damen’s hair to hold on. Over the fuzzy sound of his own cries he heard Damen groan through his own climax. 

For Laurent it felt like forever and a second. His balls ached pleasantly and looked down at himself he could see why. Thick, copious pools of his own come soaked his entire front, tickling his skin as parts dribbled. 

“Jesus Christ.” Damen panted and Laurent closed his eyes with a hum. 

“I do share the sentiment but if I don’t clean myself I’m going to fuse with these sheets.” Laurent murmured, wiping his brow. Damen chuckled, slowly and carefully pulling out of him making them both sigh. 

“You lay right there and I’ll go get a towel.” Damen lumbered his way across the room and Laurent unashamedly ogled his ass as he walked. 

“You don’t need to tell me. I won’t be moving for days.” Damen shot him a grin over his shoulder. 

 

“I’m glad you’re staying.” With me went unsaid.  
Damen hummed, trailing his fingertips up and down Laurent’s flank methodically. They were declined facing each other, Laurent laying flat and Damen propped up on one bulging arm to gaze down at him. 

“Do you plan on keeping the horses?” Damen asked somewhere out of the blue. “You said you plan to sell some things and keep the house for a while at least. What are you going to do about the horses?” Laurent blinked up at him. 

Images flooded his head. Damen helping Laurent unpack his things into a new place somewhere in the city, a townhouse that was reminiscent of Damen’s own. On the weekends they would drive further out to a paddock where Buttercup and her boys would kick back their heads and wander towards them. Laurent would laugh as Damen tried to mount one of the horses ungracefully because of his inexperience and enormous stature. But soon he would grow confident and they would trot circles side by side while Buttercup watched on with deep brown eyes. 

Laurent held Damen’s chin between his fingers and smiled, warmth unfurling like petals in his chest when Damen mirrored him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end :’) happy but sad it’s over. Sorry for the long wait I had to get through weeks of exams first. Thank you for reading guys.


End file.
